It's actually very simple: If you're invited, you either accept or cancel. If you accept, you should go. And vice versa: If you're not invited, you shouldn't go. That is the case in Paris, London, Vienna and elsewhere.
Only in Berlin is this actually not the case. The various summer festivals, which fill the schedule of VIPs (Very Important Persons) and NSVIPs (Not So Very Important Persons) in these weeks, provide enough evidence for this every year.
Anyone who is hosting a grand reception or a seated dinner in Berlin has a lot to be prepared for. They need to know that written and unwritten rules are often disregarded here. “It's really Berlin-specific,” say desperate hosts, ’and it's getting worse!’
The high no-show rate is therefore typical for Berlin: The guest is invited, signs up — and does not show up. Hosts in Berlin expect a no-show rate, i.e. the proportion of skipped people, of 25 percent, and the trend is rising significantly.
So if you want to host an event for 500 guests, you invite at least 1,000 people. Half of them will be unable to attend and cancel. But instead of 500, the host can definitely add 700 people to the guest list, as he can rely on the fact that 200 who have confirmed their appearance won't show up anyway.
It is particularly embarrassing that guests do not show up at a seated meal. If chairs remain vacant at the table, this is due to the institution that the guest represents. And the host rightly lacks any appreciation. Chronic non-comers, however, should know that word is getting around about their behaviour, among hosts in embassies, state representatives, associations, but also among location managers.
Another typical Berlin scenario: you are invited in person, but take other people with you at your own discretion. This has an effect on the crowd. The cloakroom staff is overwhelmed, the buffet is quickly looted, the drinks supply is no longer sufficiently cooled, and the waiters are unable to clean the dirty dishes.
Some hosts are therefore starting to write clearly: This invitation is only for you personally, it is not transferable and cannot be extended. Nevertheless, some guests mistake these ambiguous words for ambiguous.
Anyone who is personally invited with their wife should not bring the intern with them. If the head of an institution is invited, that doesn't mean that half a dozen of his employees are invited — or that the half dozen even appears in place of the boss.
Embarrassing scenario: You may not be invited, but you still come and embarrass the hostesses at the welcome desk by waving business cards or claiming that you were personally invited by the ambassador at the last moment. Often enough, this scam is successful.
Delicate cases concern those guests who have changed their function or have long since retired. You should actually let the host know that you no longer hold the position for which you are on the guest list. Some people find this too difficult.
With too many guests, not only do catering and security get out of hand, but also costs. Jan Martenson, an expert on embassy receptions, points this out. The host must know that he will be charged for the excess number of guests, the higher consumption of drinks, but also for the exceeded end of the event. By the way, that is the policy of every location.
Anyone looking for an explanation for Berlin's bad habits will come across an overabundance of events and dates, which often makes it really difficult to decide which invitation to accept. Berlin is also proud of its liberal attitude and does not want to reject anyone. And Berlin has much larger venues for receptions than other capital cities, where time-honoured palaces offer space for receptions with a maximum of 250 people.
Those specialists who have plenty of experience landing on invitation lists and events, even though they definitely don't belong to the target group of hosts, are called “eventists” in the industry.
They know what is on offer where and when. This doesn't mean the speeches of the inviting ambassadors, but the presentations at the buffet and the alcoholic drinks on the waiters' trays.
You meet certain types at every event — and you can be sure: If they're here, then the buffet must be really good. After all, the eventists could also have selected other events. They have enough experience and a perfect network to know which catering is worth complaining about at an event.
At the white-covered bar tables, those groups exchange experiences and recommendations in front of overflowing plates and are amused by the queues at the buffet, which they are brilliant at avoiding with their technique.
Of course, the coronavirus had also caught the eventists off guard. Suddenly, they were no longer able to eat their way through as they did in earlier times, when, thanks to the density of receptions and locations in the government or embassy district, they could spare themselves the hassle of shopping in the supermarket for weeks. Suddenly, there were no more invitations from which they could make a “double invite” with an acquaintance on their own.
But that is over. With an expert's eye, they blaspheme about buffets or wine again, criticising speeches that are too long and too much chatter, getting annoyed about too many guests (!) or complaining about the host's invitation management.
One of the eventists recently told me that he had wanted to be added to the list of participants (without an invitation, of course), but was clearly rejected despite several tricky telephone interventions. “What an impudence! ” he said with honest outrage. “I'm not going there anymore! ”
The apparently typical Berlin phenomena drive hosts and organisers to despair. I suspect I have spoken from the heart and soul of many a host with these lines.