Indecent Proposal

I decided this week that I really don’t fancy receiving blow jobs in the long term, and so, approaching the situation in the most direct manner possible, proposed to the girlfriend.

Considering I’d just arrived back after a 17 hour flight, unshaven, barely coherent with tiredness and smelling like a loosely bowelled tramp, I wasn’t entirely convinced that I’d receive a positive response. I thought perhaps I should follow the traditional path when going through this and take her out to a good restaurant or a romantic location. I could surely stack the odds a little more in my favour by lacing the event with a degree of class, and perhaps her drink with some form of drug. As it turned out, I was too scared to hold onto the ring any longer without losing it and so dropped my bag of dirty travel clothes on the floor, got down on one knee and waited for her to come out of the loo. Perhaps I should have at least waited in the lounge, but I was easily able to blame the emotion of the occasion for my watering eyes, rather than the open toilet door.

Up there at the top of things you don’t want to hear when proposing to your girlfriend of 3 years, alongside ‘not with your face’ and ‘I’m fucking your Dad’, would be the word ‘no’. This was the first word out of her mouth. ’What in the name of fuck do you mean,”no”?’, I asked her, as calmly as I could manage – which was roughly as calmly as an aircraft passenger in a plummeting, burning plane would ask a flight attendant what exactly was happening.

Luckily by this point, it became clear from the fact she was crying, screaming and jumping up and down on the spot like someone caught on a powerful electric fence, that she had either said no out of shock or was having the most conveniently timed epileptic fit in the history of mankind. After a couple of firm back handed slaps to the face (we’re getting married, I can do that now right?) she calmed down and starting trying to asses how much I’d spent on the ring.

The next few days were spent trailing around various groups of friends and family, her basking in the rapturous attention and me explaining to disbelieving people just how much one diamond can apparently affect a girl’s reasoning skills.