Vanessa’s wedding was beautiful—fancy venue, live band, plated dinner. I was happy to be invited, bought a nice dress, and even got her a thoughtful gift. The whole night, she was glowing, hugging guests, and having the time of her life.
Then, two weeks later, she sent me an itemized bill.
“Dear guests, to help cover costs, we kindly ask for your contribution.”
She listed everything—my share of the meal, drinks, even a “venue usage fee.” The total? $287. And at the bottom? A Venmo link with “Payment appreciated within 14 days.”
I actually laughed, thinking it was a joke. But no—she was dead serious. Not once had she mentioned this beforehand. If she couldn’t afford the wedding, why have such a lavish one? And what about the gift I gave her?
I considered ignoring it. But then, I had a better idea.
I texted her instead: “Hey Vanessa, just saw your message. I wish you had mentioned this before the wedding, but I get it—weddings are expensive. Since we’re talking money, do you want to swap costs? I’ll send you the bill for your wedding gift. Sound fair?”
It was passive-aggressive, sure, but I wanted to see how she’d react.
Vanessa read my message almost instantly. Three little dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again. Finally, she replied: “What do you mean? A gift is a gift.”
Exactly.
I typed back: “Right. And an invitation to a wedding is an invitation. Not an invoice.”
She left me on read.
I thought that was the end of it. But a few days later, I got a message from one of our mutual friends, Bianca.
“Hey, did Vanessa send you a bill for the wedding?!”
Turns out, I wasn’t the only one. Vanessa had sent that same invoice to nearly everyone who attended—including her own bridesmaids! Bianca was fuming because she had already spent over a thousand dollars on the bachelorette party, dress, and hair and makeup.
Another friend, Mark, chimed in: “She even charged me for the open bar. OPEN bar. The whole point is that it’s open!”
The group chat exploded. Some guests had already paid her, feeling too awkward to refuse. Others were debating whether to block her. The general consensus? This was wildly inappropriate.
So we did what any normal group of annoyed wedding guests would do: we plotted.
We decided to hold a little “meeting” at Bianca’s apartment. Ten of us showed up, all with copies of our bills, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
“I feel like we should send her an invoice back,” Bianca joked.
And that’s when it hit me. Why not?
We started drafting an email. “Dear Vanessa, in response to your request for payment, please find below our counter-invoice for time, travel, and emotional distress.”
We itemized everything:
- Cost of transportation to the wedding: $50
- Cost of formal attire: $120
- Babysitter fees (for those with kids): $60
- Lost wages for taking a day off work: $200
- Emotional damage for being blindsided by this nonsense: Priceless
Total amount due: $430 per person.
We sent it as a group email, all signing our names at the bottom, with a note: “Payment appreciated within 14 days.”
Vanessa did not take it well.
A few hours later, I got a call.
“Are you SERIOUS?!” she shrieked before I could even say hello.
“Oh, you got our invoice?” I said innocently.
“This isn’t funny. A wedding is expensive! Do you know how much I spent on you guys? On the food, the venue, everything?! I can’t believe you’re being so petty.”
“Vanessa, we came to celebrate you. We gave you gifts. We spent money just to be there. You never said a word about charging us. That’s not how weddings work.”
Silence. Then, finally: “I just didn’t think it was fair for me and Leo to pay for everything ourselves. Why should we have to cover it all?”
I sighed. “Because that’s what hosting a wedding is. If you can’t afford it, you adjust. You don’t trick your friends into paying after the fact.”
She huffed. “Fine. Whatever. Forget the invoice. Just drop it, okay?”
And that was that. No apology, just her backing down once she realized she wasn’t going to get the money.
That was six months ago. I haven’t spoken to Vanessa since. She stopped messaging most of us after the incident, and honestly? I’m okay with that.
Here’s the thing: friendship isn’t transactional. You don’t invite people to celebrate with you and then slap them with a bill. You don’t put a price tag on relationships. Vanessa saw us as walking ATMs, and when that didn’t work, she walked away.
And in the end, that told me everything I needed to know about her.
What do you think? Was she out of line, or do you think guests should chip in for weddings? Let me know in the comments!