Three years and ten months ago, I proposed to my wife in Thailand. It was one of those proposals that belongs in a comedy movie. Thailand is hot and every time we returned to the hotel room Brianna would go to the bathroom and wash her face. She did this without exception.
On this particular night we had just finished dinner and were swinging back to the room before going for a walk on the beach. While she washed her face, I planned to sneak to my bag and dig out the ring. On this night though, she plopped down on the bed and just waited. She didn’t go wash her face. She didn’t even rest her eyes. She just sat there staring at me. All I could think was “what the hell! Go wash your face! I’m trying to propose here!”
The ring was in the bag, just a few feet away, and in direct line of sight of her suddenly unblinking gaze. I sat on the side of the bed, agitated. I was getting nervous and sweaty. I thought if I waited maybe she’d change or go fix her hair. She could go stare at herself in the mirror for all I cared! So I sat, waiting for her to busy her eyes. She didn’t move though. Instead she just looked at me, somewhat impatiently, as if to say “well, do whatever it is you wanted to do.” Finally I had to go for it. I pretended to be looking for something in my bag. I glanced over my shoulder; still staring. “You’ve got to be kidding me” I thought. I kept pretending to search in my bag and snuck the ring into my pocket. I had to hope she didn’t see it and just said “okay, let’s go”.
The story continues downhill. We walk to the beach and start walking along the water. Suddenly I get overcome with anxiety that the ring won’t fit her. I know her ring finger is about the size of my pinky finger… so as we walk, with my hand in my pocket, I try it on. It fits. Phew. So I go to take it off… and it’s stuck. It won’t come off and doesn’t even seem close to sliding off.
At this point, we’re on the beach and I’ve already begun with the lead-in lines. I’ve been telling her how much I love being with her and how I find her amazing. Meanwhile, I have the ring stuck on my finger and I can’t use my other hand to pull it off. I’m frantically trying to pull it off using my other fingers and I’m beginning to really sweat. Worse, my planned speech is no longer long enough. I’m having to insert new lines to stall and they are far from smooth.
From her point of view, I’m sure this all seemed odd. Her boyfriend has gone from being generally calm and relaxed to sweating profusely and fumbling over every word. I’m only half concentrating on what I’m saying, as I’m mostly just trying to maneuver the ring off. I’ve gone from poetic love lines to lines on par with 7th grade “you’re really great” and “I really like you a lot”. I’m about ready to call the whole thing off, and just throw in the towel, when the finally ring pops off. I find my way to my knee, fumble with the “will you marry me?” and she, despite the sweat and sudden speech impediment, says yes. We returned to the US and got married six months later.
Now it has been almost four years since I proposed. I am on a plane, with Brianna next to me, and we are headed back to Thailand. We’ve quit our jobs and are returning to a world we’ve missed ever since we left. After a four day stop-over in Hong Kong, we will find ourselves back in a world of karsts, beautiful beaches, happy people, good food, and adventure.
This is a blog about being hot and happy