THE PROPOSAL

So we´re coming to the end of our trip to Buenos Aires. I´ve been trying to figure out how I go about proposing to Alison when we´re in each others company all the time. Answer...with difficulty.

First problem: The ring
What kind, how much? How do I get out of her company long enough to find it? Since we´ve been renting an apartment in Buenos Aires, I figure this is the perfect time to go ring hunting. I make up some rubbish about going for a walk. I know it sounds lame but she bought it. Ha, so gullible! So I went for a walk along a parade of shops in the very agreeable Palermo district. I look in the first jewelry store window I come across. You know what I think? These rings suck. They look like rings my great grandma wore. To make matters worse they look like they haven´t been cleaned since about the time she wore them. The woman behind the counter looks over her glasses at me and I scamper away.

Next shop. Looks like they sell rings to goths. Next one - Closed. Next one...hmmm, maybe. Alison had bought some earrings in this Argentinian pink stone she liked (don´t ask me what it was called, I don´t know). This one sold these pink stones in rings but they somehow just looked very ordinary. Man. By now I´d been gone about two hours and I wasn´t sure how much more I could justify being away. So I trudge back empty handed.

We do a bunch of activities like Tango dancing, which I really enjoyed. And went to an estancia, like a ranch outside Buenos Aires where I got to look like a girl on a horse for the afternoon.

All the while, I´m trying to work out how I get away from Alison to get this blasted ring. And meanwhile the clock is ticking. We are running out of time in Buenos Aires. What am I going to do? Maybe I just wait for some other time. Yet it does seem like this is the right moment.

Then, a lifeline on our last day. "Can you pop to the shops and get some potatos?" Alison asks. I jump up from the sofa almost too eagerly. Recovering quickly I say "Uhh, sure." I casually walk out of the building and break in to a run down the road nearly knocking over a woman with bad cankles, (big ankles) eliciting shouts of Spanish-abuse. It will have to be the jewelry shop up the road, don´t care how ugly the ring is. I´m on a clock. I get to the shop and look once more in the window. Man, they really are some of the most ugly rings I have ever seen in my life. Maybe she could use it as an emergency cheese grater or something, I dunno. I can´t, I just can´t buy her something so utterly repulsive. I´m going to have to go up to the parade of shops again. I´m only supposed to be getting potatos but...sod it. I run up the road, in my Berkenstocks and it´s not comfortable let me tell you.

On my way, however, I see a jewelry shop I hadn´t noticed before. I cross the road paying no attention to the beeping horns and screeching tires. I look in the window. There´s one ring that is not bad at all. Great. I go in and the woman pulls it out. Yep, that´s the one. I pay and run out. I´m nearly back at the apartment when my mind does a 180. "Hey Dan, how bout those POTATOS!" Bollocks!

I race to the greengrocers just outside our building. Of course there´s a queue and of course they are nattering away in Spanish. I feel like I´m going to combust there and then. The man sees my internal strife and interrupts the conversation so he can give me my two goddamn potatos.

I race up to the apartment and try to catch my breath. I open the door. Alison turns and stares at me. "Where have you been?" I freeze. I can´t even begin to...and then words just come out of my mouth. Like divine inspiration although this was more like divine perspiration I say
"There was an enormous queue at the store and they totally ignored me for ages so I had to go up the road, really annoying." I let it hang there in the air. She considered what I said for a few seconds, I could hear the cogs clanking. I was about to say "What´s that clanking sound?" when she piped up and said "They´re always doing that, they did the same to me when I was there yesterday." I let out a breath. Phew, got away with that one, I think.

Second problem: Picking the moment

So then we spend the rest of the day walking around Buenos Aires, going to our favourite spots. We had drinks by the river, then some more drinks in the Bohemian San Telmo. I suggest we go to a restaurant we went to the last time we were here. They had the best steaks in all of Argentina and let me say dear reader, that is a pretty special accolade. It was called Gran Parilla Del Plata and a very simple, yet elegant place.

We wander over there hand in hand. I´m hoping she can´t detect the quiet panic going on inside my chest. "You okay?" She asks. I swallow, my throat is dry. "Oh yeah. I´m great. Couldn´t be better. Feel like a million pounds." I reply. My mind interjects "Stop talking Dan, stop talking now." Unfortunately it says this as I´ve already started mouthing the next reason I´m feeling fine, so what you´re left with is me with my mouth open looking like a goldfish. She frowns and we carry on.
My internal monologue continues, "Jesus Dan, get it together or she´s going to end up telling your kids how you screwed up this moment. Why are you such a loser?" It´s a good question and one I haven´t formulated a proper response to. Anyway...

We get to the restaurant and I could feel sweat building. I ordered water and a bottle of their nicest Malbec. We talked for a while. I was trying to work out how I do this. Damnit I should have prepared this better. I should have written down what I was going to say.

I love you...I should have done this a long time ago...I don´t know, you say it! Time passes and the restaurant begins to fill up. There are people sitting outside, I look at their food. It looks nice. I then glance over at the staff, they are chatting away to one another. Little do any of these people know what was about to happen. Frankly neither did I. We eat our beautifully prepared steaks. Damn it´s like melt-in-your-mouth good. I think I´ve had enough wine...what am I doing, I´m standing up. I´m looking at her. "Think I´ll just go to the toilet." I mutter. She nods. I wander up the stairs passed the slightly bored staff. I get to the toilet and try to avoid my reflection. My heart is thumping, thank god for wine. I take out the ring and look at it. It´s not bad at all I decide, afterall this is only the second time I´m seeing it. I breathe in, take one glance at myself and walk out.

Down the stairs I go. I walk slowly but I think, with purpose. I get to the table. She turns to see me, I seem to have stopped behind her chair. I bend down and I say "Look you´ve dropped this here." She looks totally perplexed, wondering what she dropped. I stay on one knee as I look up and say the most ridiculous bunch of phrases I´ve ever said in my life. I can´t honestly remember the exact words but it was something like "Look, I know I should have done this a long time ago. I hope it´s not too late and well the thing is I love you and I´ve loved you for some time now (Jesus Daniel!) and I was wondering if you would be my wife and...what´s that face for?" Her face went from a confused frown to shock to tears pouring down her face. It seemed to take the age of the universe for her to get what it was I was doing. She still thought she´d dropped something. Anyway, finally the penny dropped and she started balling her eyes out. She looked outside, the people were beaming, then other people in the restaurant started to catch on. Then the waiters and waitresses were staring. She gave me a kiss, her eyes shiny. Of course whilst this is going on I´m still on my knees and the floor doesn´t look too clean and my knee is starting to ache. "So is that a yes?" I ask.

"Yes!" she says. She only had one bloody line and still she needed prompting from the wings. The restaurant clapped and the people outside cheered. I stand up, wiggling my slightly numb knee. Alison´s a mess, I´m a mess. The waitress brings over two glasses of champagne. I down mine immediately. For the rest of the evening the smile couldn´t be wiped off our faces. We went home, got another bottle of champagne, called our parents and got horrendously drunk together. I´m such a softy.