The Proposal

My daughter met her fiancé in her last job – she worked in marketing and he in store operations (still). Between them, they know a slew of vendors who provide for their chain of deli/convenience stores in the New Orleans area and both earned good reputations among vendors and higher management alike. As a result, perks are bountiful. The one I envy the most is the beer vendor-provided balcony setting party room right on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras. Food, drinks, and throws are free and they look down on the elbow-to-elbow riff raff in the street (where I used to gather) and throw them trinkets to make them dance to their puppet strings.

Bobby scored another sweet deal for his marriage proposal setting. He contacted a mutual friend/vendor of theirs and told him he planned to propose to Jill. The friend pretty much took it from there. He works for the ‘W’ hotel in New Orleans and got them (and my wife and I) rooms for our family reunion night in New Orleans. We paid $100 for the night in ours which was at least a 50% savings. The friend arranged for the penthouse on the 22nd floor for the other two. Also for $100, but this suite was normally $700 a night (with a mini bar that had the $6.00 Snickers bars and such). Of course it had a magnificent panoramic view of the downtown skyline, the French Quarter, and the Mississippi river. Oh…and the friend gave them a $100 chit for eating in their fine-dining restaurant. Cost to them then was a wash.

Location? Check.

Bobby had been talking to my younger son (also his best-man-to-be) about his plans for proposing. Jake, the career salesman and consummate showboater, had suggested it be done in front of everybody at the largest family reunion event – the crawfish boil. Bobby reminded Jake of their differences…explaining he was not comfortable taking center stage among a lot of people and thought a more intimate and private setting would be more appropriate for him.

Setting? Check.

Our extended family had chosen a New Orleans’ favorite in the Quarter for dinner (Acme Oyster House) and afterwards some returned to their hotels while others of us did some bar hopping in the misty rain, finally settling in at one of the ubiquitous little side street corner bars that opens onto both streets, allowing us to people-watch as we recalled old family stories and events and learned of things we never knew. The wife and I could not go the distance with the younger cousins so returned to our hotel around midnight.

During all of this, the hotel friend was making final preparations to the room for the big event. The next day we learned that room prep consisted of: the stereotypical bucket of champagne and two flutes presented with ribbons and bows in some fashion, ensuring my daughter’s favorite (romantic) musical artist’s CD was playing in their suite (that would be…Frank Sinatra…I grew that girl up right), and the pièce de résistance…rose petals. Rose petals…EVERYWHERE throughout the entire suite – in every room, in the bathtub, on the furniture, on the floors, on the bed…EVERYWHERE.

Preparation? Check

At 1:29:08 am the next morning, Jill sent this text message to all family and friends:

“You know that cute boy I love – we are going to spend the rest of our lives together. I’m engaged!”

Well done? You bet.