Amy, Will You Marry Me?

What do you do when you love your girlfriend? When you feel she is Miss Right, worthy of cohabitation, even if it requires a half-million dollar mortgage?

First off, you discuss the future with her. Life as Mrs. Vota, legally bound to a highly visible, globe trotting uber Geek with an addiction to technology and transit foaming on the Internets and even the streets. Then, when she accepts your insanity, you go ring shopping.

But don’t tell her that you’re buying an engagement ring. Oh no, you do your best to fake her out. You bitch and moan about diamond prices, you defer ring shopping trips, you even question the whole idea of engagement rings until she gives up and stops pestering you.

Its then, when she least expects it, like a Ross family vacation to Fripp Island, South Carolina. And where she least expects it, like the Bonito Boathouse Restaurant & Sunset Lounge, that you pop the question. Down on one knee, surprise engagement ring in hand, you ask her, “Amy, will you marry me?”

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