Home > Adventures in Dating > The End Game begins

The End Game begins


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

Rings are fraught, they are fraught because the people who work in advertising for Tiffany’s are dicks and I hate them. We are made to believe that getting the wrong ring is just as bad as cheating on them. That aside my main issue is sizing. Not of rock, but of the ring. I don’t even know my own shirt size so I’m not sure how I can find out TP’s ring size without her getting suspicious.
Here are the methods of finding out her ring size I’ve worked out so far.
  • 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.
Also she definitely told me that her favourite gem was either sapphires or emeralds, but I can’t remember which one. I am the worst boyfriend ever.
I’m going to ask her a series of green vs blue focused questions to see if I can work out the answer

Locking that shit down

The first step in this is not calling it ‘Locking that shit down’. That’s going to get me in trouble. The next thing is working out what to say. Should I do jokes? What about pretending I just found the ring on the floor? If I get it wrong will she punch me?
How long should the talk be? If she cries is that good? If she doesn’t cry is that also good?
It’s pretty stressful. Girls have it easy.

*Joke, please don’t stab/break-up with/divorce me (delete as appropriate)

  1. Old romantic
    August 5, 2012 at 9:03 pm

    I love a (hopefully) happy ending.

    Been enjoying your blog for the past year, thanks for making me chuckle….

  2. August 8, 2012 at 7:42 am

    Old Romantic – Glad you enjoy it. It’s going to get more exciting from now on.

  3. August 15, 2012 at 7:22 pm

    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!

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