The Zombie Retirecalypse

I R retire! It's been 3 years and a couple of months, since I last drew a pay-check. That was in the middle of Year I Coronarama. The usual niceties were deferred sine die. My colleague who retired in October 2019, was invited back in December as one of that year's a handful of honoured guests at the Staff Christmas Lunch. Eulogies were given; each buffer replied, at more or less too much length, with more or less sentiment and nostalgia; The Pres gave each one an ungainly glass vase; and everyone went home. My now ex-colleague was scheduled to be wined and dined by his deptl work-mates in March 2o2o: but that was cancelled by lock-down.'

In June this year all 6 Science pandemic retirees were invited to dinner by our department. Speeches were made; The HoD gave each one a robust glass tear-drop; and everyone went home. I had a mild attack of imposter syndrome because I'd only been working there a wet week eight years while the other 5 sixty-somethings had composite service of 150 years. But it was good to have a natter with my actual pals and cut dead the departmental misogynist bully and, it being June, there was still light in the sky when I went home. It all gave me a strong attack of closure.

Imagine my surprise when, last week, I got an actual letter from the current President of The Institute inviting me and my family to a retirement lunch today . . . at which I would like to make a presentation to mark your retirement. RSVP with the size of your family! I phoned in on Friday afternoon to explain my bemusement at being re-awakened from retirement slumber, believing my Exit to have been done and dusted.  I found out that 

• thirty-seven (#37) people had been invited to the event
• only a couple of current faculty from each department were invited to . . .
  
• yield seats for these enormous family groups?
  
• the staff Christmas dins had just been consumed a couple of hours previously
• there would be no space-time for a speech from the dock
• the presentations would be made by 'senior management'

None of my family wanted a free lunch ['tis a long way from Chateau Bob they were r'ared]. And I absolutely didn't want a cluttery glass vase. So my RSVP was "thank you so much for the invitation, I don't wish to be churlish in refusal, but it will streamline the logistics if the head (of family) count is (37-1)". I have a sneaking sinking feeling that the vase will be shipped to me anyway.