Static Zombie

The Story

You want details? I've got details.

One of our first dates was a day at the Puyallup Fair. It was kinda risky, coming as it did only a couple of weeks into our relationship. A full day together at that stage is fraught with peril, and the fair only added to the possible hazards.

Things You Don't Want To Hear On an Early Date at the Fair

"I don't eat those high-falutin' curly fries-- they're too fancy for me."
"Let's go see the alpacas-- I've been shopping for a new breeder pair."
"A dozen scones, please. What are YOU having?"
"I promised myself that I'd keep riding the Ejection Seat until I can do it without throwing up."
"Ooooh, that giant plush bell pepper is darling! Won't you win it for me?"
"Let's get tickets for the Countrypalooza concert!"
"When I was in it, the 4Hs were Heroin, Harleys, Heineken, and Herpes."
"Hold on, let me stop in here and ask about the saunas. It'll only take a minute."

Fortunately, only one of those actually happened and it was a pretty good date. It was only after we got back to my place that things went somewhat pear-shaped. We played some pinball, each of us on one flipper, and apparently the gulf between us made Donald Trump's ego look small. To hear The F tell it, I avoided touching her as if she had cooties-- and not the cute multicolored Schaper kind. On my doorstep that evening when she left, I leaned in for our first kiss but misread her body language. I thought she was blowing me back like a batter too close to the plate, so I turned it into a big, awkward hug.

Obviously, things got better later.

Much later. The F had the patience of a saint.

On Sunday, we went to the Puyallup Fair again, for the third year. It was rainy, but I'll take that over scorching heat any day. The poor kids doing the Mutton Bustin' might not agree, though. As the announcer reminds us, riding a sheep is like riding a 40 pound sponge-- that's been rolled around in sawdust and manure a few times.

Incidentally, we've come to the conclusion that with the exception of the scones and the Wilcox Farms soft-serve ice cream, there's absolutely no good food at the Fair. Everything else we've had-- which, granted, have mostly been onion burgers and curly fries-- ranged somewhere from meh to blech. If anyone can direct me to a good meal at the fair (and by good I mean tasty-- the fairgrounds have a long-standing restraining order on healthy), I'd appreciate it.

Later that night we came home and I paused at the top of our front steps. I reminded her about that first date at the fair and how awkward I was when we got back, and I said that I wanted a chance to get it right. Then I opened the door. The tableau that greeted her was a living room filled with 100 lit tea lights and 10 dozen multicolored roses. It was really quite beautiful. The flowers were placed throughout the room-- on the coffee table, the mantel, snack tables, etc. Likewise with the candles. Rose petals were also strewn among the candles. She walked into the room agape, just staring at everything. She tells me that she really didn't hear anything after that, because all she could think was "Oh my God, this is it! He's going to propose!" Which is pretty much what I expected. After all, what other explanation could there be? "Happy Girlfriend Appreciation Day!"

I recovered the ring box from a hiding place in our mail slot, fumbled the box open, and suddenly realized that I'd planned everything except what to say at that moment. My mind was just a complete blank. In desperation I decided you can't go wrong with the classics. I dropped to one knee, said that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, and asked her to marry me. She immediately said yes.

Cue happy music and iris out on our embrace.

Posted by Peter at September 19, 2007 04:47 PM