Tá scéilín nua 'gam le h-insint dóibhse
Cúrsaí spóirt agus comhrá dí
Úll breá gleoite do chuireas i mo phóca
'S ni bhfuaras romham ach prátín síl
Ó mo thuírse mar shileann mo shúile
I ndiaidh an úll ud a bhí breá buí
An óig-bhean uasal bhí t’reis é thabhairt domh
'S do thabhairfinn púnt ar é bhlaiseadh arís
Oh!! But of course!
No hated in-laws?
No three hour classical ballet or football game (whichever is less to your taste)?
No vegan or game meat menu (ditto)?
Just a dinner party with friends, perfectly nice people for all we know?
Oh, divorce her, immediately.
Did she know you were agoraphobic before you married?
You could take a pocket full of cosbys. Anyone who gets too inanely chatty…BOOM, cosby the hell outta them.
OR
Just cosby yourself…
Not so much agoraphobia as introvert.
I suppose if a male guest sidles up to me and asks me about the Super Bowl, I can change to subject to the new, bald, Dutch, and hilariously-named director of the New York Philharmonic, Jaap van Zweden.
Dude looks like he should be starring in an off-Broadway production of a Samuel Beckett play.
You are a natural planner and something of a control freak. That’s why you can’t stand wishy-washiness and last-minute changes. I’ll bet you really wanted the nailing done right on schedule.
If it makes you truly uncomfortable or unhappy to go to such things then it isn’t particularly thoughtful of your wife to expect you to go.
I’m an introvert as well and hate dinner parties with people I don’t know(I’m perfectly happy with the small circle I do have). Lots of people who enjoy such situations seem incapable of understanding why other do not.
I’ve often been told, “go along, you’ll enjoy yourself when you are there!” well actually, no, no I don’t and never have.
For me it would be the equivalent of expecting my wife to come with me to watch hours and hours of cricket. She’d be bored and unhappy, why would I ask her? (although at least at the cricket she could simply crack open a book and take her turn getting the beers in…so actually, the dinner party is a bigger ask for me)
How are you supposed to pick up your salad fork with your arms nailed together at the elbows?
How can you say that without providing a link? Besides the man looks perfectly normal … oh. I see.
But sure, you could do that, or you could ask him who he thought would win, and spend the rest of the evening nodding amiably and wool gathering.
Of course, there is nothing wrong with two people pursuing their own interests independently.
It’s all in the wrist.
Go.
Get drunk (or pretend to).
Ask the person next to you if all the stories you’ve heard about the person further down are really true.
When they don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, go ‘Oh, you aren’t in the circle. Forget I mentioned it.’
Repeat with each guest.
Sit back and admire your handiwork.
Never get invited to a work event again.
Lots of people would love to be invited to a dinner party full of NYC publishing types. Is this a humblebrag?
Nah, I’m a 20-year veteran of book publishing, myself. Trust me, we’re no more fascinating than Saskatchewan pig-farmer types. Less, probably.
Ike, these are publishers. They’re going to want to talk about paper stuff. Brush up on your Charmin and Bounty trivia and wow those suckers!
Sandra is on the right track here: rather than try to avoid the elbow nailing, go. Only make sure you are NEVER invited back again.
But don’t get drunk, stay completely sober (you don’t want the excuse “oh he was drunk that night” to allow you a second try).
If these are highbrow, publisher types, then be lowbrow. Talk hockey. Hockey stats. Worst injuries. Worst penalties. Maybe compare the MMA and kickboxing rules and competitors. Talk NASCAR ! Talk monster truck rallies !
If they’re conservatives, rant all things liberal.
If they’re liberals, go on a mission to convince them how Trump is the ONLY answer to the country’s problems. (don’t engage in any debates about specific policies, just keep saying “but he knows best !”).
And if you’re still “making friends” (people are still willing to listen to you), bring out the big guns: conspiracy theories. Start with 9/11 having been plotted by Greenpeace, then go into contrails, and tie it all together with UFO’s responsible for killing JFK (but it backfired because we still landed on “their” moon anyway ! 
Your goal: next week at work, you want ALL her co-workers to be asking her how she ended up with YOU.
This is brilliant. And forget the flute, but by all means bring a tuba.
For Pete’s sake, it’s nothing like forcing your wife to watch cricket even if you would be equally bored. Expecting your wife to go solo when everyone else will be a couple is just selfish. She probably doesn’t want to be there either but it could hurt her career to just skip it.
Anyways, you can find private ways to make it fun. I mentioned the acting gig thing (I play the part of charming and worldly trophy husband). I also play “how many of these damned people’s names can I remember?” and “which of these people were dragged here against their will?”.
Hell, it practically markets itself.
“Flusk”.
OMG SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY NAO NAO NAO!
No. Bring bagpipes. That you’ve just started learning how to play.
The only stuff I could make out was “wash in my shaven orgy.”