I
I read something earlier which made me smile and I’m dying to know what you think.
So apparently Gen Z’ers are done with the whole ‘big proposal’ thing when it comes to getting hitched and are just bandying the idea about and testing the waters first, before trotting off to put a ring on it with zero flap and fuss.
I was talking to some colleagues about it and they were all, ‘Oooh! That’s so unromantic!’ And I was like, are you for real?
This is how we got engaged.
One morning we went to view a house around the corner as we’d decided to look for abode for us both, after LSB having moved into the two up two down where I was residing off the Cregagh Road. Said house was very expensive, and was only ever a dream really, but how grown up it felt, to be looking at properties to buy, as a couple. Yikes, says I, this all feels very serious. By this time we were sitting in St. George’s Market, because I had a powerful hunger on me, and I was tucking into a sausage sandwich with extra onions, if I remember correctly.
There had been no great discussion before LSB had begun co-habiting, other than I picked him up one morning, off the red-eye from New York where he was working, and instead of taking him to his rented place I drove him to my house instead and there we were, ‘living in sin’ as the Free P’s would say. The next stage was getting a cat, who was a narky old bastard and still is, lording it up on the Costa del Ballyholme where she rules with an iron paw and gets fed fresh cream and warm chicken by the Mothership. Anyhoo, that’s another story.
So, having finished my glorified hot dog, we left the market and I says to Himself, So if we’re looking at buying together are we getting married or not? and he said Yes of course we were, and I said, Should we look at a few rings then? and he said Absolutely, and within half an hour I had a my bit of bling* and he was considerably poorer and basically, I’ve been fleecing the poor fella ever since.
Theres a longer version of the story here
(Let it be known that I was wearing my running shorts and an unflattering vest top at the time and the woman in the jewellers hadn’t a clue what to make of the pair of us. Never seen the like, apparently. I finally went for my run but I had to take it handy as sausages are desperate for repeating on you, regardless of whether you’re doing aerobic activity.)
But would we have done it any differently? The proposal I mean? No sir. We were both pretty sure that marriage was the end goal, but it was all very abstract. LSB also knew that I wouldn’t be up for a cringe-fest of a big moment and would have been scundered by the whole affair, which put him in a right pickle because he wanted to ask me but didn’t know how.
Was that very unromantic, me doing the asking? I said, as we took the 6a bus back up the Cregagh, 15 years ago. Course not! he said, it was great! Sure I didn’t know how to go about it, you know what you’re like; not easily pleased.
Folks, I wasn’t even offended.
But it turns out that I’m in the minority, and couples (in my demographic anyway,) didn’t just want the song and dance, they wanted the whole damn West End musical.
So, nosy creature that I am, I want to know how it all happened for you. Were you dragged to the top of the Eiffel Tower, or did you choke on your cava in the Canaries, and would you ever let your husband choose the ring for you? Heaven forbid. You know where to find me with your stories everyone!
*I did quiz the salesperson at length about the origins of the ring and did my best to ensure it was all ethically sourced. If I were doing it again, I’d get a vintage one, to be sure.