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how to hook a live one
I lied, I’m sorry; I haven’t the slightest. But I tried to find out, I really did. I figured the question would arise eventually (likely in the form of, “I’ve been trying to get my boyfriend to commit forever! How did you get him do it?!” – as if this had been my One True Goal and Path in Life since I were four years old…). In anticipation, I began my own little research project less than an hour after we left the Eiffel Tower.
I didn’t get far:
“So, when did you decide that you wanted to do, you know, *it*, *here*?”
“About three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks ago? But we started talking about this last February!”
(Gritting teeth.) “I did it, didn’t I?”
(Eyeing sparkly pinky ring.) “Yes.” (But still pouting.)
Dinner was ordered and champagne was sipped. The conversation, sparse.
“Was it the soup?”
“The what?”
“The soup. The one with the toasted cumin seeds and fresh peas? You loved it. Was that what happened three weeks ago that made you change your mind?”
“I didn’t ‘change my mind,’ I just decided to do it when we went on vacation.”
“But something, something must have happened that made you say: I must marry this girl. And soon! Something switched three weeks ago, and I must find out what it is. Inquiring women will want to know! Permanent bachelors will want to know what situations to avoid!”
“Really, it wasn’t anything specific.”
“I don’t believe you. So, maybe it wasn’t the soup… ooh! It was the scarf I got you for our anniversary!”
“Babe, it wasn’t the scarf.”
“It was the pies! Three weeks ago we made pie. You loved those pies!”
“It wasn’t our pies.”
“Did I make the bed?”
“You never make the bed.”
“I didn’t make you get me a glass of water to take my pill that night – I got it myself!”
“I think we both know that has never happened, either.”
“Well, then I must have put out.”
(Smiles.) “Babe, I’m not going to answer you.”
“Ha! It was twice in one week, even, wasn’t it?”
“I have no idea.”
“Yes, that must have been it…”
“Look! Our dinner is here! Doesn’t it look delicious?”
The next morning, I was back at it again:
“The black skirt/boots you like?”
(Silence.)
“I lint-rolled your pants – hee, I said ‘pants’!”
(Unimpressed silence.)
“I bet it was the conversation where I said that the size of the ring doesn’t matter, just get what you are comfortable with and I’ll be happy.”
(Appalled silence.)
“I’m sorry – that was awful of me. I’ll shut up about it… for at least two days!”
Two days later:
“Look, I hope you’re not marrying me because I said I was going to clean the apartment when we get back because I was just talking out of my ass again, it’s not happening any time soon, and if that’s a deal breaker I should let you know that I don’t plan on parting with this ring nonviolently.”
“Are you ever going to stop asking?”
“Are you ever going to answer?”
(Mutual glaring commences.)
But I’m going to get to the bottom of this, I promise. I can tell I’m at the edge of a breakthrough… Or a breakup, you know, whatever. More important is that I put my boyfriend’s fiancée’s patience on the line for you, trudge through mucky waters to solve the unsolvable, do the legwork…
Omigod! That’s IT!
It was the boots.
Clearly.
comments (9)
Well, I hope you're happy. You got me all teary. Having read everything you've written since the beginning of smit, I offer you my sincere congratulations and look forward to many, many years of happily married smitten stories to come.
1 | liz | December 23, 2004 04:06 PM
Maybe it was the clowns???????
2 | Dave | December 23, 2004 06:04 PM
(French nitpick: fiancée’s shouldn't have that extra 'e' because your fiancé is male.)
3 | Valette | December 23, 2004 06:24 PM
Silly little Smitten. It's not the boots--it's what you do while you're wearing them.
4 | Greg | December 23, 2004 06:28 PM
Yes, but which boot?
5 | Pretentious | December 23, 2004 07:11 PM
If I were your fiancée I would run for the exit. So much questions about 'why' and 'what exactly' express only one point: disbelieve in his love.
Love can't be explained, it is there or not.
6 | Willy | December 24, 2004 05:37 AM
There should be a blogger etiquette guide to how many posts a person can be fashionably late in bestowing good wishes.
Congratulations to you both. I've loved the past three posts and can't wait to read more.
7 | Jessica | December 24, 2004 08:04 AM
Willy, I don't think Deb has ever doubted Alex. In fact, I think her questioning is more playful and joking than anything else. If you have read any of her previous posts about Alex, you can tell that there's no disbelief or lack of trust there...
8 | writersbloc gal | December 24, 2004 10:34 AM
everyone's a psychologist these days, but not everyone's got a sense of humor.
9 | ej | December 26, 2004 07:04 PM