It's easy to distinguish the two. Brian's version makes him look like the perfect mate. His roommate reveals him as the procrastinating fool he is. If you have a story you'd like to contribute, please send it our way [contact info page].
"How I Forced the Issue" by John GrabowskiWe all knew what Brian was thinking and what he wanted to do. But there were a few critical steps which needed to be taken to make the 'M' thing happen. This is the story of how Molly (my wife) and I assisted.
Second only to the Proctologist's Office, a Jewelry Shop is the scarriest institution on the planet. First, they want you to fork over 2 months pay for something very very small (with no network adapter!). The concept alone is insane. But to make matters worse, they have a WIDE SELECTION of rings and stones to pick from. You can't just pick 'factory default', 'model 2373', or 'the GOOD one'; you actually have to make a decision ON TOP of the decision to get married. And if you pick wrong and she thinks it's too small, ugly, or unstylish, you're screwed for the next 40 years.
Understandably, Brian was avoiding the issue. So Molly and I took it upon ourselves to break the ice.
We first tried gentle diversionary tactics, such as "Hey Brian, help us go grocery shopping" to get him in the car, and make a detour to the jewelry shop. But Brian was very very slippery. He would point to the left, exclaim "WHAT'S THAT!!!!", then run to the right. So our strategy failed.
Next we handcuffed him, blindfolded him, threw him in the trunk, and drove to a jewelry store. But when we got there Brian was very excited and refused to let us take off the handcuffs or blindfold. Something about his tone of voice and big wide smile made me very reluctant to take action. Since you can't take a handcuffed and blindfolded man to buy an engagement ring, this trip didn't work either.
Finally we tried getting him drunk so he would be easier to confuse. Although we managed to get him in the store, the jeweler ejected us when Brian puked on $100,000 worth of stones. So this trip was fruitless as well.
In summary, we never made any progress. Brian ended up going to the jewelery store on his own. But I like to think that fear of what I'd do next was the driving factor which got him off his ass. So Molly and I willingly take full and complete credit for making the wedding happen.
It all started out a couple of months in advance of the actual proposal when I had decided that I wanted to surprise her completely. She lives in LA and I live in San Francisco, there are all sorts of logistics to work out. I've got to get her up here without arousing suspicion. I must get a ring that fits. I have to make sure she brought something nice to wear, so we can go out to celebrate.Luckily, getting her to come up to visit me was never a problem. I would probably have larger problems with proposing marriage if she never wanted to see me.
Now I needed a ring. This was a tough one, because I would have to find something that she wasn't embarassed to wear the rest of her life. If I got a ring that was too big, it might slip off before she could get it resized. If it was too small, it might cut off circulation before she realized it in the post-proposal daze. It needed to be just the right size, so she could shock her sister upon returning to LA.
As some background, Marisa currently lives with her sister, Serena, in LA. Serena made some comment to Marisa a while back that she always checks her finger for a ring after Marisa visits San Francisco. So, I later realized that Marisa wanted to surprise Serent by not telling her, but letting her eventually notice the ring on her finger.
How could I ever get her ring size? I thought about it for a long while, and then remembered that like many MIT graduates (myself included) she had the trademark MIT class ring, affectionately known as the "Brass Rat". I figured that the ring fingers on both hands will be of the same size, to a first order of approximation. I acquired a set of vernier calipers to measure the inner diameter of her class ring, and then found a jeweler who could convert that measurement into a ring size.
Choosing the ring itself was an arduous task of staring at row after row of nearly identical gold bands. The fear always lingered that she would dislike my choice, but wouldn't say anything. Needless to say, this got tedious, but I did have a surprise encounter. I just happened to run into the VP of Engineering of the company I work for, and he was furtively looking at engagement rings for his girlfriend as well.
With all that done, I still had to work out the details of the actual proposal. I consulted everyone on the most romantic locations possible. I'm sure they were sick of all this talk. A few of my divorced co-workers even put in their opinions on marriage. I finally settled on China Beach, in the Sea Cliff neighborhood of San Francisco. It is a beautiful beach that has a fantastic view of the Golden Gate Bridge on your right and the beautiful hills of Point Reyes across the water. This would be where I would propose.
As Zuzga's are apt to celebrate any important occasion with food, I also had to plan a nice meal out. There are so many fancy restaurants in San Francisco, but I'm sorry to say that I rarely get to visit any. I had to find an expert, a man who knew the city better than any beat cop, a native San Franciscan with class, and that is when I turned to Max. He immediately recommended the Cafe Majestic, and after further investigation the reviews said it was "perennially rated the most romantic restaurant in San Francisco". Max comes through again.
The Cafe Majestic has as dress code, so I would have to convince Marisa to bring along something nice to wear, without letting her on to my devious plan.
[To be continued...]