A Guy’s Guide To Getting Married (A Groom With A View)
Two weeks and five days ago my girlfriend Evin and I got engaged.
We both knew this would happen even though getting engaged had become of late, the elephant-in-the-relationship — infrequently discussed, occasionally joked about. By the time I was fairly sure she was just insane enough to accept, I went out and did the prudent thing. I had Evin’s best friend take her to a jewelry store under the guise of looking for earrings, trick her into heading to the back of the store to look at engagement rings, find out exactly what she wanted, then report back to me.
The following week I went to 47th St (NYC’s diamond district) to buy a ring. When I found what I wanted, it sat buried in a bag in the back of our closet while I waited for the exact right moment.
Late in the afternoon the following Saturday, I sat Evin down at our kitchen table — the one we built from scraps left on the curb of our neighbor (the actress) Keri Russell’s house.
Me: “So, if we went engagement ring shopping, what would you like?”
Her: “Should we even be having this discussion? Shouldn’t you just go out and buy one?”
Me: “Do you know what you want?
Her: “Yes, am I supposed to just tell you?”
Me: “Should we go to Zales?” (a joke) “What are you thinking, ¼ carat, 1/2 a carat? Color V, clarity QW9?” (all jokes)
This went on for 10 or 25 minutes until I pulled the ring out and said, “should it look like this?”
I expected tears or shock or a combination of the two. Instead, she casually waved me off, stood up from “The Keri Russell Table” and walked out of the room saying dismissively, “that’s from a gumball machine!” I tried to convince her but she wasn’t having any of it. “Let me see that,” she said looking at it closely, “it’s not even a good gumball machine fake diamond ring.” So I went to the bedroom and brought out the laminated certificate. Only then did it register on her face that I was serious and the ring was real. “This is where you say ‘yes,’” I instructed. And she did.
A flurry of text messages and phone calls to family and friends followed before a walk two blocks away to celebrate at our favorite neighborhood restaurant. Looking over our menus we made a pact — “let’s enjoy being engaged for one week and NOT talk wedding plans.” We hardly made it to dessert.
Over the next week we sat at our computers looking at web sites that supposedly helped couples plan their wedding. “How To Buy That Dress,” “Picking The Right Bouquet,” “Who Will Be Your Maid of Honor.” Hey! What about me? And so I thought: maybe I should blog about the wedding experience from the male POV. And that’s that.
So until Evin and I get married early next summer, I will be blogging on a weekly basis how this undertaking is going for me. A Groom With A View will be an honest account of the most illogical of processes — getting married.