The End Game begins
Toast
These posts will be posted after the event but they will be composed in real time. Erm, look just read it will make sense.
The Theatre Producer and I have been going out for a year now, shockingly that makes her one of my longest relationships. We are very happy, properly ’oh my god they are insufferable’ happy.
However this blog isn’t about happiness. It’s about winning and for that reason (And not because I think she’d make me happy for the rest of my life*) it’s time to lock that shit down and propose. Yeah baby, marriage percentages just got real.
There are three stages to any good proposal. Fathers, Rings and Locking That Shit Down.
Talking to Daddy
This is the permission asking bit. I can’t see it will be a huge problem but it does have some issues I need to overcome.
- I don’t have TP’s dad’s phone number, I’m not sure how I can ask for it. Maybe I can feign an interest in a sport or something.
- He might not be very discrete, so I’m going to have to ask him at the last possible moment. So just as things are getting romantic I need to dash off and make a call. She’s going to love that.
- He might say no. A minor point. I’m not sure what the rules on this are, do I have to defeat him in a duel or just give him three pig and a wagon of turnips?
Finger Bling
- Trick her into poking a hole in something with her ring finger. Something like cheese or an avocado. Freeze said item and then take that to the jewellers.
- While she is sleeping make a cast of her hand with Plaster of Paris. Make a fake rubber hand from the cast and take that for sizing. If the fake hand is also robotic, award self extra points.
- Find a female friend with hands like hers, take them to jewellers. Spend a lot of time explaining that the friend is just a stand-in.
- While holding hands wrap my hand around her ring finger to get the size of it. Then run off to jewellers without moving hand in the slightest. Like you do when you’re trying to work out if shelves will fit in a room and you don’t have a measuring tape.
Locking that shit down
*Joke, please don’t stab/break-up with/divorce me (delete as appropriate)
I love a (hopefully) happy ending.
Been enjoying your blog for the past year, thanks for making me chuckle….
Old Romantic – Glad you enjoy it. It’s going to get more exciting from now on.
Where is biscuit during all of this? I’m well and happy for you guys (YAY!), but I want to know how things are going on the other side of the wager. Are things so obnoxiously good he doesn’t have time to write, or have things gone sour and now he’s soured on the whole blog? Inquiring minds need to know!