My wife never saw her engagement ring coming.
I proposed to her sitting on the same two barstools where we had met 2.5 years prior. We were the only two in the place then. But now there were 300 people, sports playing, and a dude warbling over his acoustic guitar.
She did everything in her power to (unknowingly) prevent it. Worked late, didn’t wanna go out, didn’t wanna dress up; but I somehow guilted her into hustling up and heading out.
Friends with cameras were lurking, the singer stopped, and a staff member walked by and dropped a wireless mic in the hand behind my back.
Got up, dropped to one knee, and did it.
That was December 2010. We were on the website for quite a while. It sucks that the place doesn’t exist anymore, but we still have the pics, some shirts, and a few koozies.
We got married in June on the 3rd anniversary of the day we met. Freakin’ Juneteenth, too, so now our anniversary is a federal holiday.
The place was Scuttlebutts on Padre Island, by the way.