Marriage Proposal

I got my first ever marriage proposal and didn’t even know it until days later.

I am the girl, who when out of the country, exclaims, “I just love not being tied to my cell phone!”  I only say that because there’s no way to have access to it unless I pay ridiculous fees to use it and I'd rather spend my dollars and cents on fruity drinks with fruit as garnish.  To fellow travelers and new vacation friends I seem like I am accepting the situation as it is and making the most of it.  I’m sure my fellow travelers get annoyed with my Zen declarations, and I’m pretty sure one felt pretty happy when she informed me that my sister had won an Emmy and I didn’t even know it b/c I wasn’t “tied” to my cell phone.  

I am also the girl, who as soon as the tires on the plane touch the runway, turns on her cell phone.  I had nine voice messages when I turned on my phone the second I landed in Houston on my way back from Cabo.  I’m not that popular, I just hate listening to voice messages and those who know and love me know not to leave them and instead realize that I will call them back... eventually.  Therefore, there was a back up of old voice messages and three new ones.  Two were from the secretary of the establishment of which I am proud to be an employee... and one was from a number that I do not have saved in my cell phone.  

I know the number though.  It’s one of those numbers that you don’t save for a reason; you know the type.  It was once saved with a first and last name.  I’m going to call him Shakespeare for a few reasons, one of which is that he is a master of insults.  Once I realized I didn’t want to date Shakespeare and regretted texting him when I was tipsy, I removed him from my phone.  Don’t judge, I know you have had this experience.

I didn’t rush to listen to my voice messages because, let’s get serious, who cares what was going on at work while in Cabo, and I also didn’t care what nasty insult Shakespeare had come up with this time.  I attended to more important business... texts, Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook.  Duh.  

When our next flight was delayed, I decided to give the voicemail a listen to entertain both my travel soulmate and myself.  I was absolutely shocked to hear Shakespeare admit that he loved me (no, he nor I had ever said that to each other in the past, nor do I believe it to be true) and that he wanted to marry me.  His closing line was, “So call me back when you get this, and I’ll pick you up and we can get married.”

Since then, I have enjoyed sharing this voice message with several friends, we all get a kick out of it, and I even managed to text Shakespeare to tease him about it.  Apparently he’s turned over a new leaf and expects me to change my mind about him.  As if. 

Tonight, I was driving through a part of town that I don’t usually drive through, but the highway was a parking lot, so I took the back roads.  I happened to drive past the bar where I met Shakespeare during happy hour two falls ago.  

I shit you not, he was walking in the front door.  

Did I turn onto the street and frantically search for a spot on to park?  Then I could accept the marriage proposal in the spot we met and we would live happily ever after!

ABSOLUTELY NOT.  

Because while that would definitely make for a fabulous story for a best man to tell during a wedding toast, there’s a reason we delete those names from our phones, and even if we sometimes answer their texts in a time of weakness, we never should forget why they were deleted in the first place.