"She said, 'Yes!'": How One Man Proposed In Such A Way To Make It As Memorable As Possible

My girlfriend has always been a bundle of nerves. That's okay for me, but it does create some excessively stressful situations out of (what I feel are) simple things. We've dated for years, and Tiffany has known that I am not intending on getting married until I've nearly completed my higher education, which means finishing up my Ph.D. in English. I earned my master's degree over a year ago and have jumped through some hoops in applying to a program at ULL, and as such, she and I have talked about long term future together. Despite some worry, she knew I had considered proposing soon, and I wanted to make sure she had exactly what she wanted, so I asked her to pick out an engagement ring she would be most happy with.1

Step 1: Make Sure She Gets What She Wants!2

Engagement ring selection is a delicate process based on the following mathematical principal of elimination:3

E = R^2 * B (g/s/p/wg) = Cost4

E = engagement ring5

R = rock size (squared, as a tiny rock will equal doubt of love, and a massive rock would equal doubt of sincerity, showing flash over substance)6

B = band, broken down into different categories, depending on the recipients personal preference...7

g = gold8

s = silver (925)9

p = platinum10

wg = white gold11

Cost = how much the boyfriend can't afford, but has to pony up anyway12

My girlfriend chose a beautiful stone set in marquis style on a white gold band. Elegant, simple, and within range of expenses. For obvious reasons, I couldn't get it right then, so I, instead, teased her about NOT getting it, just to frustrate her.13

Step 2: Don't Tease Your Significant Other...Too Much14

As this was roughly a month before Valentine's Day, the classic event wherein people across the nation scramble to get their loved one(s) a romantic gesture, Tiffany FIGURED I was likely going to propose to her on that day. It didn't help that the ring in the case had gone, uh, missing, and I could only suggest that it must have been bought by someone else already (too bad for her). Since the assumption was that a proposal was inevitable, I decided to try to jazz things up a bit by telling her a number of ideas I had come up with for possible proposal ideas, including calling a local bank with a scrolling marquee sign and requesting that they scroll the proposal on the board at a specific time, as well as dropping the ring in a glass of champagne to be brought to the table at the restaurant we would dine at on Valentine's Day.15

In the week before Valentine's Day, I was struck with a lovely case of stomach bugs, turning my colon into the world's most disturbing slip-and-slide. I spent the weekend in bed, and my girlfriend and her daughter had come over to help take care of me. Her daughter, a six year old, decided to go digging in my cabinets and found the ring box. She brought it out and showed it to my girlfriend, who refused to open it (she swore to me...) and told her to put it back where it was.16

As I'm sure you can see, this surprise wasn't going to be very surprising...17

In any case, after I had recovered (and found out that she had seen the box by noticing that the box had moved), I scrambled to come up with ways to make the entire proposal as special as possible, since the excitement that would normally accompany this event was vanishing quickly...18

Step 3: How To Torture In a Loving Way19

I had considered getting a couple of additional pieces of jewelry and giving them to her at certain romantic places or moments, but thought that it was in poor taste. By Friday, I had decided against this idea, thinking it too harsh and not very kind.20

I was instead stuck with my one unique thing...21

Her mother, in prediction of a coming proposal, scheduled a manicure for Tiffany on Valentine's Day morning. I had some things to do (such as getting a roll of quarters to do laundry the next day...I mean, life goes on AFTER a proposal, people), but I elected to take her to the nail salon myself, dressed as disgustingly as possible (essentially, cut-off tee-shirt, ragged jeans, hair styled by my bed, etc) to help improve the reaction when I'd return after a few errands. My intention was to go to Wal-Mart and get a loaf of bread for feeding some ducks after a romantic meal downtown, get my quarters, go back to my apartment and get cleaned up just in time to return to the salon to pick her up and continue the day.22

When I went to pick her up, however, she had already dressed nicely, wearing a pendant I had given her a few years previous. Her problem, however, was that she had no earrings to match the pendant, as the pendant was primarily gold and her gold earrings had tarnished. She was stuck with some silver ones instead, and this disappointed her some.23

Suddenly my plans of giving her multiple pieces of jewelry seemed like a GREAT idea.24

If only I had already bought some.25

I dropped her off at the nail salon, which was overloaded with women awaiting their turn to get their nails done, and the arranged appointment had been forgotten by the salon. Thirty minutes later, it became her turn. Tiffany hadn't had her nails done in years, and so she asked another woman how long it usually takes.26

"Usually 'bout thirty minutes."27

I used to work at Wal-Mart. I know what it's like. Recently, the number of cashiers have dwindled even during slow periods, making the average line 3 to 4 customers deep. During weekends the depth exceeds 4 on average. On holidays...yech. On Valentine's Day...ha.28

And suddenly I was getting jewelry, too.29

I made into Wal-Mart's parking lot at 10:30 and sighed. It was full, which meant I was going to be late getting cleaned up and ready to meet Tiffany.30

I walked into Wal-Mart and went straight to the Jewelry department. The Jewelry department in Wal-Mart on Valentine's Day is like bull walking through low water in the Amazon where piranhas are swarming, only there's more blood at Wal-Mart (typically). Strangely, this metaphor places men as both the swarm of piranhas AND the unsuspecting bull, but only in different contexts. Women walking nearby give dour looks of disgust at the stupid, late-shopping men, while the men give dour looks of anguish at realizing they waited too late to get a decent piece of jewelry. When stuck with deciding to purchase really nice, quite expensive pieces (that they personally think is a waste of money...) or choosing the "holiday boxes" with the bright pink hues and costume jewelry designs, the typical man will begin to convulse and seize in the middle of pulling out his wallet, and the older ladies working the jewelry counter will systematically "tsk-tsk" and "finger-wag" the man into paralysis.31

Step 4: How To Avoid the Bull-Piranha Experience32

I first hovered around the holiday displays. I had already purchased the main Valentine's Day gift, so I really didn't need to spend a fortune anyway. I was paid up. Sadly, holiday displays are vacant of decent pieces for last-minute shoppers, so I surmised that I had to visit the earring and pendant trinket displays in the main cases to find a quality purchase.33

I floated in and around three other near-seizure man-shoppers, knowing that my early preparations inoculated me from the potential health-hazard of last second shopping, and began eyeballing the earring cases for a bejeweled earring that would match the engagement ring.34

And viola! A set of star-design cubic zircon earrings. Selection one, done.35

But I wanted the trifecta of jewelry purchases, so I swam over to the third case, the one holding the various pendant designs. I saw crosses, I saw hearts, and I saw reruns of things I've gotten for her before.36

From the lack of variety available, I began to give up hope.37

But there. In the case. Third down from the top, the left of two rows. It was beautiful!38

A butterfly pendant.39

It was perfect. The silver wings matched the engagement ring, and the gold highlights on the body matched the earrings. She had never received a butterfly pendant before (from me, at least), so I was confident in the uniqueness and elegance that the necklace offered. I flagged an associate down, pointing to the necklace for purchase.40

"Some last minute shopping, eh?"41

I realized then that the associate was someone Tiffany and I knew fairly well. Her name was Betty--a cashier, and occasionally a holiday associate working in Jewelry--and I had to make sure Betty was not going to rat me out to Tiffany the next time she came to Wal-Mart without me.42

"Oh, hi Betty. Didn't know you would be working here today."43

"Yup," she replied. "Busy day, and they need me over here instead of up front. Getting something for Tiffany?"44

"Uh, yes," I said. "Actually, I already got her a main thing. These two are just...gravy."45

She laughed. Good thing, too. Wouldn't want the piranhas to sniff me out unnecessarily. I had gotten the Valentine gift all ready anyway...46

I purchased both pieces of jewelry, and I noticed that the necklace box I was given wasn't really large enough to hold the necklace itself. I requested a different box, and, by luck, was given a ring box identical to the one the engagement ring was in.47

I couldn't have planned it any better.48

Step 5: How to NOT lose your jewelry - Don't Open It!49

So I made my way across the middle of Wal-Mart, heading toward the bakery. In the process, I opened the box that the earrings were in to make sure that they were seated properly in the container. I didn't want the gift to be off-centered or anything, so I thought it would be a good idea to adjust the backing while it was still in the box.50

Big mistake.51

The backing slid off the post, deep into the foamy packaging within the tiny box, while the earring itself popped out and flew across the floor. I'm standing in front of the first belted register beside the express lanes on the grocery side of Wal-Mart, holding a box, a lid to the box, and a bag, and peering over the floor like a diamond miner having lost a large shard. A manager walks over to me after he notices my perplexed look. I explain how I just got these and the earring is now somewhere on the floor. He was nice enough to begin looking, and as a result, two other women passing by join in as well.52

Now there are four grown adults bending over, tilting their heads sideways, craning their necks in an attempt to help me find my star earring on a white floor. I figure we must have looked like we were mimicking chickens during this time, and I can't help but smile at the thought.53

I finally gave up looking straight down, so I (in my infinite wisdom and unconcern for cleanliness) got down flat on my stomach and scanned the floor. Five feet away, right beside one of my search-women's feet, was the earring. I picked it up, thanked my assistants, reseated the earring back to where it belonged, closed the box, and got the bread with no hesitation.54

Thirty minutes had nearly elapsed. I was out of time...55

I sped across town in my Mitsubishi Lancer. Wal-Mart is roughly a mile and a half away from my apartment--a five minute drive, assuming the traffic lights agree with me. I jumped out of my car, jewelry in hand, and got inside, shed my clothes, and showered. Five more minutes passed, and I got some clean, classy clothing (Black cut-off tee-shirt underneath, white polo shirt with Nike emblem on the left chest, dark khaki pants)--nothing too over-the-top, but something dashing enough to grab a double-take.56

I got the engagement ring from its hiding spot, made sure the other two pieces of jewelry were in my pocket, and made my way back outside. In the car I searched for a spot that the jewelry could stay, finally deciding on two boxes to sit in my arm rest container and one to sit in my glove box. Content that I had what I needed, I drove to the nail salon. I got there at 11:10.57

Step 6: How to Psych-out Your Significant Other58

I parked and ran inside of Goodwill.59

Maybe that doesn't make sense, but I figured that the 30 minute estimation had elapsed, and Tiffany would be inside of Goodwill, wandering around and waiting for me to arrive. I walked around the store, searching for her and coming up empty. It dawned on me that the estimation to finish was too early, and she must have still been in the nail salon, finishing up. Five more minutes had passed, and I entered the nail salon expecting to see her paying the tab and leaving.60

She was still at the table.61

She greeted me in the nicest way possible: she looked over to me, looked back at the Asian man grooming her fingers, then turned back to me so fast MY neck popped. The simple white-on-black styling I had chosen had worked.62

BAM!63

Anyway, when the manicurist had swapped customers momentarily, I walked over to her and kissed her on her cheek. She smiled warmly and apologized, explaining that they were so busy that they had manage multiple clients simultaneously, slowing down the entire routine but getting more people tended to at the same time. I shrugged, looked over to a clock hanging on a support beam in the middle of the room--which had 11:20 on it--and told her I was going to walk back to Goodwill to get something to drink.64

When I returned, armed with a half-empty bottle of Powerade Zero, she was preparing to wash her hands of the chemicals and complete the transaction. I looked again at the clock, looking somewhat concerned, of which Tiffany had finally noticed my glance.65

"What's a matter?"66

"Oh," I said. "Nothing...just was hoping we could get out of here before 11:30."67

Her quizzical look was enough evidence that the seed I had planted was going to take root. I again mimed my concern for the time, returning to a game of poker on my cell phone as I waited.68

Tiffany waited as a black woman who finished three minutes before her washed her hands, and I continued to eyeball the clock as if there was an appointment to plead for my life that I just couldn't miss. By the time she had finished washing her hands, Tiffany was almost as jumpy as I appeared, and she asked me why I was in such a hurry.69

"I've...got to go to the bank, is all."70

Her eyes widened, clued in to the possible outcome of getting to the bank by 11:30. For sure, she believed, this was it. This was the engagement! At the bank! Using the sign!71

She paid the tab (with noticeably shaking hands), and I took her arm and part speed-walked, part ran to the car. Tiffany jogged to her door, in just as much of a rush, fearing getting to the bank too late. I put the car in drive and took a back road to get to the bank as quickly as possible, going a bit faster than the speed limit suggested.72

We got stuck at the stoplight across the road from CityBank, and I craned my neck to try and watch the scrolling marquee. Tiffany joined me, fully believing that this was my method of proposal. I tapped the steering wheel nervously, shifting in my seat, waiting for the light to change so that I could dash across the highway and into the parking lot. The lights on the opposite road changed to yellow, and I released the break, hovering my right foot over the accelerator.73

Green.74

I pumped the gas, giving a lurching thrust to the car, and cruised into the parking lot about four spots from the marquee, far enough away that looking up at it wasn't painful to our necks. I nervously looked at the clock in the car and toward the marquee in shifts.75

"This is it?" Tiffany asked. "This can't be it. You're not even on one knee..." Of course, it didn't stop her from engaging in my fervent interest in the marquee's messages. The waver in her voice spoke volumes of her anticipation, and as she and I continued staring at the sign, I subtly opened the arm rest's hidden container and pulled out a tiny, dark blue box. I sat it on her leg and she stared at it, at me, and back at it again.76

"What's this? I know this isn't the ring...This can't be the..."77

She opened the box, and a pair of star-shaped earrings sparkled at her.78

"What are these for? What are you doing? I thought you were going to propose!" She slapped my arm and thigh for the deception, but I could only smile.79

"Why were you getting so excited?" I asked. "I told you a month ago that I didn't have enough time to set up this sort of engagement."80

Tiffany couldn't decide if she should be angry or happy with the surprise. She kept repeating how mean it was, how I shouldn't have gotten any other gifts, how I had tricked her. I merely repeated what I had told her long ago:81

"Hun, I'm doing this my way, not some old retred of a traditional way."82

I, of course, apologized numerous times for getting her worked up, and her hands shook more from the adrenaline rush with a lackluster climax than they did in anticipation at the nail salon 20 minutes before.83

Torture is fun!84

Step 7: The Process of Adrenaline-Rush Exhaustion85

So Tiffany and I drove across the main bridge near downtown Natchitoches. At 11:45, it was a hair too early to eat lunch, but I really didn't have any well-conceived plans for the time before the meal. I suggested that she and I walk along front street, checking out the bookstore and possibly getting some Blue Bell ice cream in the meanwhile. Obviously, dessert before dinner wasn't a great idea, but thanks to how much time the nail salon took, the 15 minute wait would eclipse quickly. I parked in the spaces along the riverfront, and as I exited the car, I pulled the second box from its hiding place and slipped it into my front pocket. We traversed the staircase and walked to the bookstore, where we made friends with the owner's resident cats--a massive orange tabby and a calico female who loves to be held--after which we made our way to the restaurant.86

Tiffany had been reminding me for over a week to make reservations at The Landing, a formal restaurant that primarily specializes in seafood and Cajun/creole-modified entrees. I had only eaten there once before, and believed it to be a perfect setting in my engagement plan.87

And no, I didn't make reservations.88

At 12:00 on Valentine's day, Saturday, there was very little to worry about, as for available seating arrangements. The place was populated only with senior citizens and a single college-aged couple. We were ushered to a table along the left wall and spent our wait for a waitress admiring the photographs of various animals hunted or fished by the owner in many years past. When our server did arrive, we ordered a quaint appetizer, our drinks, and--at my careful insistence--two glasses of champagne to come with our entrees. At this additional order, Tiffany's blue eyes sparkled with renewed anticipation, again envisioning a fluted, opaque glass with one very shiny, very special piece of jewelry at the bottom.89

The main course took its sweet time arriving, and we chatted about our possible future, about the decent weather we were able to enjoy that day, and the possibility that I was going to propose at the restaurant, with the champagne glasses to come. I assured her that it wasn't going to happen there, that I didn't have the ring on me, and that she would just have to wait until it was "the right time."90

Ten minutes later our orders had arrived. I enjoyed a seafood-themed meal--something fishy, though I don't remember what and don't think I'll order it again--while Tiffany picked apart her plate. I recall her order having fried green tomatoes as a part of it, but...well, no one really cares about this, right? Readers, I'm sure, are quite literally chomping at the bit, awaiting the proposal-to-come. Well, to placate those individuals, I give you this: Tiffany got up and used the bathroom.91

While she was absent from the table, I pulled out the jewelry box--the box with the butterfly pendant; the box that looked identical to the one that had the engagement ring--and sat it in front of me. The waitress returned in the meantime and noticed the box.92

"Is this what she's been waiting for?" she asked.93

"Uh, not exactly. I'm sure she'll like it anyway."94

The woman smiled as she partially cleared our table, probably filling her mind with the same fantasies that Tiffany had been clinging to.95

Speaking of, Tiffany returned to her seat and noticed the box near my left hand. I pushed it forward as I said, "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie."96

"You're not getting on one knee!" she exclaimed as she grabbed the box. "This isn't it, is it?" she added.97

Tiffany opened the navy blue container, and her face lit up brighter than the sun after a thunderstorm.98

"Aww, it's beautiful!" she said. "But you weren't supposed to get me anything but a ring!"99

"Who says I got you a ring?" I scoffed.100

Step 8: Just When You Think The Horse is Dead, Flog It Once More To Be Sure101

I paid our tab--a much lower sum than I had anticipated (Yay for me!)--and we waddled our way back into the fresh air. Our stomachs were full, and in predicting this to be the outcome of our dinner, I had earlier suggested that we visited the Front Street shops to walk off our meal. I was still intent on getting ice cream--a weakness of mine that I wasn't going to miss--so we walked to the shop that has a blue bell ice cream station within. When she wasn't wandering the aisles looking for chef-themed kitchenware, Tiffany clung to me like a freshly weaned puppy.102

Ladies, if you learn anything from this story, it's that occasional moments of clinginess are a great way to let your man know he's got your full attention. Just don't make it a constant habit...103

As I paid for and finished my ice cream, I noticed that Tiffany's demeanor had changed from glowing to bland. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that she was already worn out--the multiple adrenaline surges I had forced on her had sucked her dry. I gently suggested we postpone the rest of the Front Street walk, opting instead to get the bag of bread from my car and feed the ducks. We went back down the stairs and to my car, and I deftly opened the front passenger door, grabbed the bag of bread from the back seat, and opened the arm rest container to pull the last box out of hiding and into my pants pocket.104

There were smatterings of people along the water's edge, which rippled gently with the breeze and reflected parts of the cloud covered sun. We walked along the edge toward a generally empty section of the river, where I pulled a few slices of bread out and left the rest of the bread on a bench nearby.105

I looked left. I looked right. I looked straight. A strange event was happening before me, and I had never seen something so bizarre.106

There were no ducks.107

People who have been through or lived in Natchitoches can affirm that the riverfront area, where the fireworks and lighted Christmas decorations are viewed, is always filled with ducks. All day, all night, and all the time. So instead of a romantic feeding of quacking birds and, occasionally, honking geese, we threw pieces of bread into the empty water.108

What fun!109

Tiffany was unimpressed, until I told her that she needed to watch for the fish to eat the bread. She furrowed her brow and doubted the statement, but I explained that the riverfront has had so many people coming to feed ducks that the fish will strike the scraps floating on the top of the water. Her doubt continued until, without warning, a splash struck full slice of bread and left the slice torn in two. Moments later, the two pieces were attacked again, and within a minute there was hardly anything left. Her amusement was my peace.110

The duck plan kind of fell apart quickly, but it didn't matter. I lulled her back toward the bench and sat down.111

"Hey, sweetie, I wrote you a poem! Do you want to hear it?"112

"Uh, yeah, sure," she said, with a twinge of surprise and awe.113

I shifted in my seat and reached into my pocket. A small, folded piece of paper came out. I unfolded it and began reading. She listened closely, laughing when appropriate, sighing when expected, and welcoming the gesture gladly. When I had finished, I asked her if she would like to see it. She agreed, and I handed her the paper, which read:114

To me, there is only one truth:115

I love you.116

For so long, I’ve cared for you117

For so long, I’d been by your side,118

And no matter what our differences, our disagreements, our discussions,119

Never have we truly considered being apart, separate.120

You and I, we have always worked it out.121

Unfortunately, there have been bad times, bad moments, and122

Truthfully, many of the problems caused were because of me.123

Even though we’ve both been hurt, and both hurt each other, I124

Can’t imagine anyone I’d want to be with, want to spend time with, or want to love.125

Hopefully, you feel as I do.126

Whatever comes, I know this:127

I will be with you through thick and thin, good times and bad,128

Loving you with every string of my being.129

Living without you would be like living without the sun.130

You know how I feel about you, though you don’t always know how I am.131

Once in awhile you come to the belief that I’ll react negatively, and132

Ultimately, your trust in me is lacking.133

Much as I am saddened by this, I know that it’s harder for you to trust.134

Almost as often as you’ve loved, you’ve lost.135

Reality is – no one you’ve loved has returned your love like I have.136

Reality is, you worry about this love, this trust, this compassion, and137

You really shouldn’t…not any more. 138

Maybe you can finally trust and love me enough.139

Even enough to overcome your doubts.140

?141

Careful readers will note the first letters of each line, but in my printed copy, I aided the visual with bold and red-hued lettering, making the underlying message stand out. Tiffany's eyes widened, acknowledging the proposal, and when she looked to me again, she found me on my knee, arms raised, presenting an open ring box...this time with the ring.142

I repeated the proposal--audibly, this time--and she said "Yes!" I helped place the ring on her finger and we kissed and hugged. In her shock, she asked if I had actually said the words, "Will you marry me?" because it was so fast and sudden that she hadn't been aware. I assured her that I did--like I was going to mess up the most important moment in the entire day.143

Minutes later, while still at the bench, Tiffany said:144

"You know, I've been trying all day to guess where it was going to happen and what you were going to do. I never would have thought you would propose this way. I mean, I should have known--you're a writer, after all!--but this didn't dawn on me. Out of all the ways I had thought of, this was the best. This was perfect, and this was definitely you. No other way could have been better."