So our wedding date is set, our invite list is almost complete, our house is in escrow, I figured I should post the answer to the one question I repeatedly get: how did you propose?
Now if you are getting the impression I shiver to retell the tale au contraire. Typically the women and men adore it, not for my style but mostly because I can’t stop smiling nor can I relive the moment with any sort of pith.
The beginning of January Liz and I were talking on the computer, she was most likely working diligently while I was sorting out some medical insurance nonsense. The wily girl mentioned how I wouldn’t be having this paperwork debacle if I were on her work insurance plan – with a big instant messaging smiley face at the end of her sentence. Well if you know Liz and I at all we love to have a good back and forth, and I was in the middle of typing how I can just jump the gun and ask her to marry me while we vacation in Utah with her family six weeks from now.
I stopped typing and thought to myself, “Holy shit. That’s a great idea.” It is hard to think up a proposal plan and here in jest I brewed one up and was about to give it up for free! I jumped onto a calendar: 6 weeks. I could pull it off in six weeks, right? I consulted my parents and thought it would be a pretty cute idea, snow drifts and all. I sent a message to my boys hoping to rally them for a boy meeting, we couldn’t get together but they knew what I was up to.
So the search began and ended at Tiffany’s, I mean how can you go wrong? A young woman named Kathryn Moore was more than helpful with my selection at Rodeo Drive. So Beverly Hills I know. I was ready to roll to San Diego to have dinner with Liz’s parents, call me traditional but even after 14 years of friendship, you have to get the blessing. Bumps in the diamond road followed, my stone had been SOLD! Kathryn was the greatest, she had an identical stone en route delivered by 3PM.
Having never purchased an engagement ring or asked for a parents’ permission to steal their only daughter, I thought a suit and tie would be appropriate attire for the day. I dragged them to Ruth’s Chris and I don’t think I’ve seen Cathy Graham smile in front of a piece of jewelry like that before. I was pretty jazzed. As expected, Hank asked me with a huge smile what I would do if he said no. I didn’t think of the response then, but I should have said, “Then you’re picking up the bill.”
Just over four weeks to go until our vacation. Four weeks of obsessively opening my office drawer looking at this beautiful ring I got for the love of my life. By day two, I cracked like stucco in an earthquake.
I got the right answer from my mom. What a fantastic enabler: “Well you don’t have any memories or special significance in Utah together, it’s just a trip. A nice one, and the snow is nice, but your lives and memories now are in LA, why wait?”
Why wait indeed. I made a late night reservation at Boa in West Hollywood, amazing steakhouse, even rivals my own personal favorite Donovan’s if you can believe that. But Liz is no fool. ”Honey, we don’t need to blow that kind of money unless we are doing something special.” I forced her to plan on going without giving up anything. Well that’s not entirely true, I am a total tease.
What an amazing place, the atmosphere was very personal and intimate, by no means a cookie-cutter restaurant. As our meal wound down I jokingly said to Liz, “Well maybe you should go to the bathroom and there will be some champagne glasses here with a ring in one of them.” She scowled at me and left. I took out the ring box – which I had so slyly kept hidden even during a pat-down by my future fiancé before leaving our apartment – out from under my thigh and called the waiter. All I did was open it.
“I need one shot of Patron silver here before she comes back, I need two glasses of champagne, but I’m not going to put the ring in it.” He couldn’t stop laughing and smiling, it would be pretty damn cool to play a hand in something so significant for someone. My shot of liquid steel arrived and I dispatched with it post-haste. Liz came back and moments later two glasses of champagne arrived. She grinned and started to inspect it, I got another scowl when she saw it contained no carbon.
We actually started talking about our wedding. It’s come up before, it’s no secret; we live together, have a dog, and known each other more than half our lives. At random I interjected and said I wanted to propose in Utah. She looked kind of dumbfounded, pondering why I would mention it. I know she did the math in her head: four more weeks.
We were always debating where our wedding would be, in San Diego or Los Angeles. The topic came up again and I interrupted. I said, “Before we do anything else, there is one thing I need to do in LA.”
“What?” she replied.
BAM! I had her walk right into it. I got out the box and opened it in front of her, “I need to propose to you in LA.” That’s when I dropped on one knee and the grand finale . . .
Let’s just say Liz has a new favorite steakhouse.
