When you keep a proposal secret from your fiancée, a wide gulf exists between your respective perceptions of the events leading up to that moment. To your fiancée, it’s an evening that will starts out relatively uneventful, and, if you’re doing it right, she’s not going to pick up on any cues that this is anything different than the last thirty weekends. To you, it’s a challenge to keep everything moving toward your plan without giving anything away.
That created a couple of hiccups. A couple weeks before the proposal, I asked Melanie if she’d like to go karaoke singing. Melanie has an excellent singing voice, and loves karaoke. On our third or fourth date, we sang karaoke at a local bar, and I remember how surprised I was that this otherwise soft-spoken woman had such a powerful and beautiful voice.[1] We had found a couple of places in midtown that had a karaoke event on the weekend, so we chose one of them.
I also decided that I’d like some people important to Melanie to be there to share her excitement. (Assuming she said yes.) To that end, I’d invited her sister and her sister’s fiancée to join us at karaoke. However, we ended up going on one day earlier than originally planned, which meant that Liz and Justin couldn’t come along. (Justin’s a DJ, and had a gig the night we went to karaoke.) I’m not sure when Liz knew about my plans, but I don’t think I ended up pushing the issue of us waiting until they could come along because I was afraid Melanie would know something was up. I also didn’t want to postpone this, because I wasn’t sure how long the folks who knew about the engagement could contain themselves.
I also invited Catherine, our mutual friend along. Catherine introduced us originally, and Melanie and I re-connected after a year-long split at Catherine’s birthday party, so it seemed fitting that she should be there for this. I was a little worried that Catherine might not be feeling up to it after work, so I went ahead and sent her an e-mail letting her know what I was doing that night. Catherine, being an incredibly supportive friend, assured me that she’d be there.
About an hour and a half before we met with her, it occurred to me that I Melanie and I had been talking about getting married and moving in together, but Catherine didn’t necessarily know that. I worried that Catherine might hear us talking, and assume that I’d already popped the question, so I sent her a text telling her not to be surprised if the topic came up in conversation and that Melanie did not know about my plan. Here again, Catherine was supportive, and thanked me for the heads up.
Before we left, we had dinner and watched an episode of the show Taboo on Netflix. By pure coincidence, she chose an episode about marriage in different cultures. I remember being amused by that, given the circumstances. Not that I could show it, though – she just thought it would be an interesting thing to watch. To me, it was an omen; to her, it was a way to kill some time before we went out.
About 9:30, Melanie and I left my apartment for Midtown Tavern. I had put the ring in the pocket of the jacket I intended to wear earlier in the day, before Melanie got there. As we were getting ready to leave, I turned my back to her, took the ring out, and made sure it was still there. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe I was worried that some gnomes had broken into my apartment and stolen the ring or something. Maybe I just enjoyed tempting fate.
Once we arrived at Midtown Tavern, things proceeded quickly. Catherine was there to meet us. We made had a nice time catching up while each of us waited for our chance to sing.
I asked Melanie if she had any preferences as to my song choice. I’m not sure which of us initially selected Tom Petty. I scanned through the song book, and came up with a couple options. The first was “Walls,” a song that I sang on our first karaoke date. The other was “The Waiting,” which I thought might be a little better for a proposal. Without prompting her, I asked her which one she’d like better. She chose “Walls.” I asked her if she was sure, and she said yes. I asked her if was because it was one of the first songs I sang to her, and she smiled and nodded.
I tried to be casual about it, but I also knew that it was the song I’d be singing when I proposed to Melanie. I wanted to make sure she was happy with it. “Walls” had the advantage that it was a song that she associated with us getting together, so it already had some significance to her. Also, I knew from singing it a couple times that “Walls” had a long-ish instrumental break in the middle of the song. Usually, that makes for a lot of awkward fidgeting during a song, but in this case, it was a perfect fit.
Not long after we sent our names up, the DJ called for Melanie’s name, and said that Melanie would be followed by me. That moment reminded me a little of going to airborne school, when the time came for us to get up and shuffle to the door of the plane. I needed to walk up there on the stage and take the leap, and from that point, gravity would take over. The waiting had been the hardest part, but now it was over. I was anxious, given the magnitude of the event, but I knew for certain that this was what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to back down. Of course, much like jumping out of the plane, there was also the possibility that if I did something wrong, and Melanie said no in front of a crowd of people, I’d be free falling.
Having exhausted my supply of airborne metaphors and Tom Petty references, I got on stage and started singing (to use the word loosely). Catherine was a great help in making this work. She both filmed everything on her phone and ensured that Melanie stayed near the stage while I was singing. (Melanie told me later that this was her first indication that something was up.)
On a whim, I took out the ring box, and held it in my hand while I was singing. Melanie, however, didn’t notice, as she was following along with the lyrics. Toward the end of the second verse, I even opened the box to have it ready. She still didn’t notice.
So, I took the direct approach. When the song came to its instrumental interlude, I proposed. I had a rough idea of what I wanted to say when I got up there, but it was a little improvised.
“Hey Melanie?” (Not originally part of the speech, but I needed to get her attention.)
“I love you more than anything else in the world, babe.” (I knew getting up there I wanted to say that.)
“And having a musical break that’s eight measures long seems like a decent time to ask…” (Again, not originally part of the speech. I was a little nervous, and sometime I make jokes when I’m nervous.)
At this point, I held up the ring. The crowd -- having keyed in to the fact that something new was interrupting the usual program of patrons drunkenly warbling off-key versions of songs from the 1980’s – started cheering.
“Will you marry me?” The crowd was still cheering at this point, but I could see Melanie looking shocked, and smiling, and saying “yes”.
The cheering of the crowd was drowning her out though. “Can you say that a little louder? Can you give me a thumbs-up if that’s a ‘yes’?” (OK, this part was actually something I planned. Sometimes I just makes jokes because I’m goofy.)
Melanie yelled “YES!” and nodded vigorously, smiling. I walked down, finishing the song. I got down on one knee to put the ring on her finger, and finished the song. She looked positively radiant, and I’d never felt better about any other decision in my life. I gave her a kiss.
And from that point on, my life keeps changing for the better every day.
[1] I also remember thinking, “Why is she singing a song about a woman who destroys her boyfriend’s car because she suspects him of cheating?”, but that’s neither here nor there.
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