The Proposal Episode 2

.................... I kept smiling to myself, I was so excited! I thought he wasn't ever going to propose (ya, he's not really the romantic hula hoo type). I had thought we'd go to a shop together and he'll tell me to choose a ring and then we'll choose a date and that's it.
And this happened roughly 2 weeks before our trip to London/Paris, so maybe my dream of an Eiffel Tower proposal is indeed going to come true!

Wee!

So after what had happened, I frequently gave Brian a sneaky smile and think in my heart "I know a little secret. You don't know I know your secret but I do *giggle giggle giggle* " And boy did I treat him so extra exceptionally very nice. And I fantasized about Eiffel Tower, about being proposed to on one bended knee (boy that would be embarassing, please don't), walking hand in hand along pebbled streets, about floating on air, drinking macchiato(say that with a squeaky high-pitched voice, it sounds very funny) and eating croissants. About Eiffel Tower.

So after maybe 2 weeks, we left for London, our first stop.

On the third day (I think), Brian went to watch Arsenal vs Tottenham at Arsenal. I didn't join him because I hate football. Ok, hate is too strong a word, but I prefer shopping to football. The (illegal) ticket cost 200 pounds, so yeah, no thank you. We went separate ways, I left for Oxford Street (crazy shopping heartbeat of London) while he watched football, and then I went back to our hotel first.


This was where we stayed, so devoid of character! It was a "safe" choice, and very close to the Euston station, and Brian is a bit 'kiasi', so it was.

I remember he came back around 4, a little sad because Arsenal lost. (This was probably where it started going downhill. For Arsenal I mean.) At the same time he was pretty pleased for having watched his team in action. (Ok, what is it about boys and football? Why do they get so emotionally attached?)

So anyway, we chatted a bit about the game (my duty to be an understanding partner, although it was only pretend). And then he suddenly whipped out his wallet and asked me "Do you want to see something?" - with the same sheepish smile I have come to recognize as the "secret proposal plan in making" smile.

I froze and stopped in my tracks (I might have been walking to the toilet to pee). My heart sank.

And I said, slowly, "Huh? No, I don't want to see".

"You want to see something?" as if he hadn't heard me.

And I said again, with an almost pleading voice "No, I don't want to see".

And he asked again "Huh? You don't want to see? Let me show you something."

At that point, all the romantic, fuzzy, lovey-dovey air has evaporated (does air evaporate?).

"No, I don't want! I don't want!" I was desperate, pleading even. Please don't, please don't please don't. Whatever happened to Paris?

Anyway, he didn't get it. He didn't get the desperation in my voice to NOT do it.
Because while I said I don't want, I was peering over his shoulders a little too earnestly to SEE whatever he was hiding, because Hello, I cannot tahan anymore la. But I just want to have a look, I don't want to be proposed to. I know, what kind of a funny weird manipulative control-freak woman am I?! I know, but you know, I just want to be proposed to in Paris, at Eiffel Tower. Is that too much for a woman to ask? Is that? Is that? It is? Oh, OK.

So anyway, he took the ring out from a small little plastic ziplock bag from the coin compartment of his wallet and showed me. I looked at it for a split second, and curled up in a foetal position on the bed, and suddenly felt like crying.

My dream of a Parisian proposal is dead.

The ring is 7 sizes bigger than my finger (size 14. I'm a 7. It doesn't fit even my thumb. Hilarious!)

The ring was taken out of a plastic ziplock bag. I'm traumatised. No proposal ring should be ever presented in a plastic ziplock bag.

To be continued.....(tomorrow, maybe :))