Tonight my boy and I went for sushi, since it's our Friday-the-thirteenthiversary (we met on a Friday the thirteenth). He was very cool, very casual about where to go for dinner when we made plans a couple of days ago. Nothing to raise suspicions at all.
So, tonight we went for sushi downtown. We were pretty much done eating when he got up to use the washroom. What I didn't know was that was when he took that time to take the ring box with him, and enlist the help of a waitress. When he came back, he sat down nonchalantly, and we watched the sushi boats going past, trying to see if there was any more sushi we wanted.
Suddenly a boat came with something odd on it that caught my eye. This:
I sort of stared at it a minute, registering. Then I quickly grabbed it, pretty surprised. This bit's kind of a blur -- the entire restaurant loudly applauded and cheered, and all of the waitresses scooted around squealing congratulations. I covered my face in embarassment and surprise and I don't know what all, but managed to turn to Mike and say "Yes, I'll marry you!" and we kissed. Everyone was watching!
All of the waitresses stopped by one by one to ask if I had said yes, and/or congratulate us. Our waitress brought by two tiny cups of sake, on the house as a congratulations. I had never had sake before, it's certainly an interesting drink.
He said he was nervous -- not that I would say no, but that some part of his plan might go awry. Like someone grabbing the ring off the boat before it got to me, or me noticing the shenanigans, that sort of thing. Although getting proposed to wasn't a total surprise by any means. A couple of months ago I picked out a ring (two, really, and then down to one) so I knew Mike had it. It was just a matter of when I would get it. Since I got to pick it, I adore the ring and am very happy to be wearing it for the rest of my life. It's exactly what I wanted.
I had slight suspicions he might pop the question tonight, since it's our anniversary and all, but wasn't sure. We're going to get married next year sometime, but we haven't set a date, yet.
Um, so, yeah! Very happy and proud of my, uh, fiancé (seems so weird to say that) for giving me such a cute story to tell, planning it all and pulling it off without me knowing. I sure love him.
Mike's Side Of The Story - April 14, 2007
Ever since buying the ring in February, I knew I needed to have a ring-delivery plan in mind. Sure, presenting it over a nice dinner is perfectly nice and traditional, but she will have to tell the story of the ring presentation to every woman she meets for the rest of her life, so I wanted to put some panache in it. I like a little theatricality.The date was easy: I'd do it on the next available Friday the 13th, which we celebrate as our anniversary whenever it falls.
The place? I first thought of the Calgary Tower restaurant because she loves it, but it's been done: I wanted to be unique and creative. Generally the ring is hidden inside a champagne flute, or inside a dessert, which invites the strong possibility of mishap, and the certainty of professional jewelry cleaning. Having Lisa overlook or ingest the ring would certainly make for an interesting story, but it wasn't what I was going for.
So, inside the food was out. But beside the food was still a possibility. And, I remembered, I've always wanted to screw around with the floating sushi boats at Sumo Lounge at Eau Claire.
There's a circular all-you-can-eat sushi bar there, you see, and patrons sit around a moat on which float metal dragon-shaped boats that carry the plates of sushi. I wish all my food could be brought to me on metal boats.
Placing the ring on a boat myself posed three problems: First, I'd have to get up and do it without her seeing me.
Second, presumably the wait staff would not appreciate customers putting strange things on the sushi wessels.
And third: how to keep the other eaters from investigating the non-sushi interloper? That problem I addressed by including a note:
I included a name to make sure that other women there on dates wouldn't get the wrong idea. That would make an awesome hidden-video gag--send around unmarked rings and see how many girls squeal and grab one, while the guys squirm.
I even decided not to just put "Mike" and "Lisa" on it, since the possibility of another Mike and Lisa pairing was somewhat unlikely but not completely unlikely.
For extra flair points, I put together the note whilst sitting on my couch in the living room right in front of her, with a web browser window at the ready in case she leaned over. She didn't catch me at it.
To solve the first and second problems, I knew I'd have to have a waitress plant the ring on a boat for me. I couldn't take the ring over ahead of time: the restaurant only opens at five, and it was too risky to leave the ring there on an earlier day. I would have to wing it: I would pretend not to know where the washroom was, wander into the lounge area where Lisa wouldn't see me, flag down a waitress, procure her cooperation, and return to my seat.
So, Thursday night I retrieved the ring from its hiding place in My Eminent Domain, which in general is anywhere in the house more than six feet off the floor, and in specific was behind the hot chocolate canister in the kitchen. I stuck it in my backpack, and after work on Friday I transferred it to my right jacket pocket.
Luck was with me at the restaurant: the waitress seated us at the first seats at the bar, next to the staging area where they load the boats. The staging area is a large metal raised table that would completely block Lisa's view of the bathroom on the opposite side of the bar, as well as most of the northeastern part of the restaurant. Perfect!
I hung back and let the waitress seat Lisa right next to the staging table. Since Lisa would be sitting on my right, I took advantage of the distraction to switch the ring to my left jacket pocket, and hung my coat over my chair.
I listened carefully to which waitresses spoke English well; I didn't need a language barrier interfering with my plans.
I was nervous!
Once Lisa was about full, I declared my washroom intentions, leaned over for a kiss, and used that distraction to palm the ring from my coat pocket. (Load! Misdirection!) I peed to avoid suspicion and also because I had to pee, and then waited outside of the washroom where Lisa couldn't see me until I could grab a waitress' attention. I asked her for a favour and explained what I wanted her to do. I explained it loudly enough to get the attention of the people sitting at that end of the sushi bar, in order to lessen the chance of their picking up the ring. The more people knew about it, the more likely it would work.
"Right now?" she asked, obviously charmed. Waitresses live for that kind of thing, I think.
"Give me a couple of minutes to sit down," I said. "Thanks!"
And then I sat and waited. For an uncomfortably long time. I tried not to stare too obviously at the floating boats, and toyed with the sushi I already had.
Eventually a waitress tapped my left shoulder as she brushed by my left side. She'd put the box on a boat.
After a delay, it floated into view. Lisa stared at it. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and grabbed it as it floated away. I asked her to marry me and kissed her and put the ring on, and the entire bar applauded because, as I just then realized, the delay was due to the waitress taping the note to the box and also telling every other waitress in the place, as well as, somehow, the sushi chefs in the middle of the bar.
And judging by the time it took to arrive, she'd placed the ring pretty close to my left so it had time to make almost a complete circuit of the bar, letting everyone else see it.
Oops.
Lisa flushed red. It was like when your friends get the wait staff to sing a birthday song to you and bring you a cupcake with a sparkler in it--times one million. I hadn't intended that. Oh, I'll be paying for that later.
All the waitresses trooped by to congratulate us and ask if Lisa had said yes. I think that's why guys make super-public proposals on stadium jumbotrons: it increases the chances of a positive response. But it also makes a negative response far more embarrassing.
Our waitress brought us sake, on the house. I've never had sake before. It's like someone took a one-litre bottle of cooler and condensed that amount of sugar and alcohol into a two-thimble-sized glass. Ultracooler!
As we paid for dinner, the waitress who scanned my Visa cooed at us. Lisa asked if anyone had ever done that before. "No! Never!" she said.
Sweet.