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A Few Modest ProposalsMay 18 '01 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line Everyone loves a surprise, and everyone will be most surprised when you publicly propose to someone other than your girlfriend.
Herewith, a brief discussion of a marriage proposal I once got. Well, to call it a marriage proposal would be analagous to calling a miscarriage a birth, but let's not nitpick, shall we? I was dating a man named Sven Irishpolsky. Well, calling it dating would be analagous to calling Oprah waifish, but let's continue. At this point in our relationship I really couldn't stand Sven anymore, but he was meeting my sexual and mode of transportation needs, just barely, and finding a new phallus and a fully-equipped red sports car in very short order was a very tall order. Sven wanted to take a vacation, and he wanted to meet my parents, and he wanted to sightsee in the city of my birth, and worst of all, he wanted to combine all these things in one trip with me. "Sven," I said, "You are not coming home with me. You will not be meeting my parents or any other part *of my family. This is an idea that will not come to fruition." "Oh, come on," replied Sven in the narcissistic manner of a five year old. "It'll be fun. They'll love me." "Sven, my parents only just recently learned to love me. They will hate you. They don't know you. I never talk about you. I don't think I've even mentioned your name. They will have no idea why I've brought a complete stranger into their home for a week." "Well, maybe by the time we make the trip," said Sven whimsically, "you'll have a ring on your finger." Annoyed by his non sequitur, I merely snorted. Soon we broke up for the seventh and final time, although it was not the end of his phone calls. ["You know I look like Jon Bon Jovi…...and you LOVE it. No more Bon Jovi for you. Bon Jovi is OVER, baby." The Miss Manners in me wouldn't allow the proper response, "The only way you would resemble Jon Bon Jovi is if all his features were compressed into two square inches in the center of his face and I was squinting at you like a redneck at the hot Georgia sun."] The Surprising Corporate Proposal This works best if you and your sweetheart are colleagues, he/she is a client of your company, or if you have some other excuse for attending business meetings together. The bigger and more important the meeting, the better. I would aim for an auditorium full of VPs and CFOs. You have prepared a lengthy PowerPoint presentation. But SURPRISE -- slide #44, between "Third Quarter Earnings Estimates" and "Business to Business Marketing Trends," shows a bulbous, pulsating heart with the message, "Tiffani, will U marry me 4ever & ever?????" Or "Drexel, first you moved my cheese…..then you moved my heart…..MARRY ME." Once the room full of aging, thick-waisted frat boys finally lurches from their deep slumber, the auditorium will slowly fill with the rumble of bored applause and whistles. Hopefully Tiffani isn't at that moment refreshing the coffee urn, and Drexel isn't moving his bowels with the aid of Investor's Daily. Aside, in which I ponder the situational propriety of love phraseology Ever dated a man who only says "I love you" during the act of mating? This means his penis loves you. Unless you only want love and commitment from his penis, you should discount these throwaway dithyrambs. "I love you" counts most when it is the hardest to say. If you are relaxing on the toilet with your thesaurus as your poop takes a leisurely journey through your miles and miles of bowels and your man comes in to brush his teeth and says "I love you," this man may be a keeper. Then again, he may be the sickest kind of fetishist and maybe you should flush and run. Hopefully he isn't your insurance agent, waiting for a stool sample. The Low Key Proposal "I guess you'll do." I like this one. It's so simple. It's not phony, verbose, or cheesy. I wish Hallmark would market a line of "You'll Do" cards. You can cleverly incorporate this into the wedding vows: "You'll do, so I do." Aside, in which I ponder the timing of relative introductions Some boyfriends introduce you to their parents or family members right away. Others could be in the same room with you and their entire family and not introduce you. I've found this is not a wholly accurate measure of their intentions toward you. Sven Irishpolsky, for example, introduced me to his immediate family plus all his aunts, uncles, cousins, and cousins' children right away. Actually, our first date was Thanksgiving dinner with his entire family. At first they were a little disappointed when they discovered I didn't strip for a living, but they soon came to appreciate most of my discreet non-proletarian charms. Soon I was visiting them at their vacation homes, borrowing their pajamas and hair detangler, shimmying into their ski pants. I quickly realized I liked them a lot more than Sven. Another boyfriend, Jebediah Irishpolsky (no relation) had his sister visiting from 2000 miles away but never introduced us. I saw Jeb across the street one day with a young woman. I waved, and he waved back. The woman checked me out curiously as I wondered who the hell she was. I found out later and gave him the third degree, but I'm just as guilty. If things get serious with a boyfriend, I wait a year or two before mentioning to my family that I'm seeing someone. It gives us all plenty of time to not get used to the idea. I like that cushion. Of course, by that time the relationship is usually in the history books so I don't have to mention it at all. Phew! The Surprising Strip Club Proposal Insist on taking your special lady to a gentleman's club. Watch numerous acts and tip generously, but not too generously. At the end of the evening, order a lap dance and command that your squaw watch. When she finally begins to whimper with humiliation, get down on one knee and explain that you were just trying to make a point: in spite of all the beautiful, sexy ladies in the club, and their willingness to show affection, you have chosen her above all of them! Stick a benjamin in her underwear (as a signing bonus) and present the ring. Aside, in which I muse on the subject of church-going You might suppose that a couple attending religious services together would have achieved a certain level of seriousness or commitment, that the setting of quiet repose and worship would be conducive to reflecting on God's purpose for bringing a man and a woman together in holy matrimony. Indeed, this is often true. Sven would use his time at church marketing himself to other women with the penultimate goal of snaring himself a wife. (His ultimate goal was saving enough money to help her purchase breast implants.) This never raised my hackles, since I was too busy trying to pick out the good looking, disaffected Catholics and miserable, budding atheists in the crowd. Sven thought he was a good Catholic because he went to Mass regularly. Of course, it was the one service widely referred to as the A$$ Mass because of all the young-uns who came directly from the health club. My exposure to Catholicism merely reinforced my belief that Protestantism was a superior innovation. The Surprising A$$ Tattoo Once I was dating a man named Guenther Pruss-Alsace. Guenther stumbled home from the bars one night and passed out on top of the bedclothes, but not before he had time to pull his pants down around his knees. Suddenly I glimpsed a fresh tattoo on his as$$$ss$$$e. It read, "Top 10 Reasons Why You Should Marry Me." #10 was "Your credit history is a lot better than mine." #9 was "We'll never have to shop for milk again." His biology was a little off, but nevertheless I was moved to tears. Guenther slept through the pain as I branded my own joyful answer into his tender flesh with a soldering gun. Unfortunately, he developed quite an infection and had to undergo a complete gluteal amputation. With all those 10 reasons gone, I couldn't think of any fresh ones and we sadly ended things.  |
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