I fumbled around in my closet and found a pair of black
dress pants I had hoped were where I had left them and took them to my
dungeon-like basement to take a shower and get ready. When I was done cleaning
myself, I put on my white undershirt, underpants, and then became wedged in
what turned out to be a pair of Amanda’s work trousers which resembled mine in
my haste. Shit. I scrambled to find mine which ended up being in the dryer, and
I continued the process of dressing up, doing my hair up, and triple-checking
my list which contained only two things: the ring, and the camera.
I had been planning this moment for two years. You see,
exactly two years ago I walked into the Lafayette Club for the first time, and
that was when I first saw her. I knew nothing of her at the time but something
whispered into my conscience, “There she is.” Since then, I’ve sacrificed a lot
and gained everything. I’ve actually been
planning this proposal for about a month, and it involved a lot of people and a
lot of secrets, and it was completely flawed, yet somehow unbelievably flawless.
Wearing my own pants, I checked my pockets for the ring, my
wallet, and the ring. I had the ring. I put the camera around my neck and
packed an overnight bag for the youngest child for whom I had arranged to be
picked up from daycare by a neighbor. She was going to have a sleepover at her
friend’s house, and the oldest was going to be picked up by her friend’s
father, and she would be sleeping there. Kids: check. This took a lot of
arranging, but it had all fallen into place.
I took one more look at the proposal I had written two weeks
ago and flew out the door. Oh, I stopped by the flower shop on the way home
from work and picked up an arrangement I had ordered on Tuesday. She said, “It’s
very important that this stays upright so the water doesn’t fall out of the
cups because you have a lot of driving to do.”
“Got it!” I replied.
About two hundred feet into my drive home I heard the
flowers tip over in the back of the minivan and I had to pull over, get them
out, and wedge them in front of the passenger seat. They stayed put for the
duration.
I stopped at my neighbor’s house with the overnight bag and
he gave me some words of encouragement and a hug and I was ready. I just had a
45-minute drive to think of all that could go wrong. What if she says no? What
if I crash and die? What if this is when the aliens finally come take over and
use our anuses for science? What if the flowers die?
I drove and drove, and I rehearsed dozens of times and it
sounded perfect. I called Amanda’s coworker and friend who would be responsible
for taking pictures and coercing her into coming out into the dining area and
told her I was close by, and she met me at my van when I pulled in. We spoke
briefly and she took the camera and I put the flowers into a vase with water I
had set up. I took a breath. Well, I suppose I always take a breath. But this
was a deep one, and I turned and walked in. I received a lot of stares and
smiles because the bouquet I ordered was rather extravagant. I smiled politely
and continued to breathe.
I made it inside. I passed the front desk and made it to the
host stand. This is it. This is the
moment. This is what you have wanted for two years. She wants this. You’ve got
this.
 |
| Eyes closed, deep in meditation. Or possibly I blinked. |
But Amanda was busy, and I slowly accumulated a gathering of
her coworkers and her boss, who said he would bring her into the “livingroom”
which is pretty much a gorgeous lobby with lavish woodwork and charming décor.
I waited, and the camerawoman waited on the other side. In a minute, I could
hear their voices drawing closer… And closer. And finally, she rounded the
corner.
Finally, the woman I want to love forever saw me. “What are
you doing here!?” She exclaimed.
 |
| You'll notice a theme: Amanda covers her face with the flowers in nearly every picture. there's no intent, it just happened. |
And this is where I fell apart. I handed her the oversized
bouquet of flowers and cited the first line of my rehearsed proposal. I touched
her awkwardly a few times on the shoulder as I stumbled through the words that
came so easily in the van, and I told her that I loved her, and that I wanted
to lover her forever. I got down on one knee, and I said, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” She cried.
And then the aliens came.
Nothing was perfect, and yet it all was, much like life
itself. I had also planned with her boss to taker her out afterwards and we
went to Acme Comedy Company to see Louis C.K. and laughed for a couple hours.
It was a fitting end to a wonderful day.
To show how funny life is, I will include some pictures of
the actual proposal, then the one we had to do afterwards because the damn
flowers got in the way of everything. Remember, if you want to make God laugh,
make plans. I think I could hear him chuckling a few times yesterday.
Thank you to Vanna, Toni and Jake, Emily and Craig, Sandy, Greg, Mom, and everybody who helped me keep this a secret for so long. I couldn't have done this without you all. I almost didn't do it with you all, but in the end, all that matters is that we are officially engaged.
Another landmark move, another step toward the life I have worked to hard to achieve. None of this would have been possible five years ago. I wasn't a person worthy of her hand. Today I am proud, today I am happy. Now I can hold her hand forever.
