The Time I Said Yes to a Marriage Proposal Because I Needed A Ride

The proposer will be referred to as Cocaine Boy in this story, which may or may not be true depending on whether or not I receive a cease and desist letter.

We were in my Myrtle Beach townhouse community pool and our conversation went like this:

Him:  Where do you want to go tonight?

Me:  NYC hahaha!

Him:  Okay.

Me:  I was kidding.

Him:  Come on let’s go – right now.

Me:  Okay sure, fuck it.

We left 20 minutes later and drove 10 hours with chlorine in our hair.  No plan and no place to stay because that’s what you do when you’re 26 and a complete dumbass.  Oh and I had just quit my job.  He had just been fired from his.  For drugs, the felony, or stealing – take your pick.  

I had been made aware of his charming qualities by concerned members of our community but being the genius I was chose not to believe them.  In my defense, Cocaine Boy could passionately lie, including tears, in a way that’s typically reserved for Oscar winners or people who have 37 people buried in their back yard.  You know how when someone’s lying to your face and you know it but they’re so skilled they break your bullshit meter and you believe them, but as soon as they’re out of your sight the spell is broken and you kick yourself for falling for it?  He’s that guy.

He woke me up to appreciate the sunrise from the New Jersey turnpike.  Sexy.  Cocaine probably explains why he was able to drive through the night while I soundly slept for half the trip.  I say probably because I didn’t know.  To this day I have never seen cocaine in real life.  Except for that time my mom and step-dad were doing it to cooperate with the feds.

I don’t remember where we stayed in NYC but I’m sure it was tres luxe since we were both unemployed.  Somehow we managed to be very well dressed and seated in a swanky theatre watching Sunset Blvd. when I noticed his knee vibrating like a jackhammer.  He was obviously distracted, but who wouldn’t be when they’re violating parole?  I was so taken by the fabulous costumes and set design I forgot about his runaway knee and watched the rest of the first half in rapt attention.  I love musicals.

The lights came up for intermission and I immediately started prattling away about the awesomeness of Part I.  He said nothing.  I didn’t care.  I kept chattering until we found ourselves in front of ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking Times Square.  That’s when I noticed he was on the floor.  I asked if he was okay while frantically looking around for someone who might be able to help if he collapsed entirely.  When my eyes got back to him, he had produced a box holding a Rockefeller-ish diamond ring in it.  Huge dreamy middle stone that I recognized as his late grandmother’s, surrounded by three chunky diamonds on both sides.  It was the very same setting I had chosen the week before when he asked my opinion for “a friend” who planned to propose to his girlfriend.  My first clue should have been:  he had no friends.  

Then his pale and sweaty face asked:  Will you marry me?

Internal dialogue:  Are you fucking kidding me?  I was just trying to find the right time to break up with you.  I’m pretty sure you’re a felon with a cocaine addiction, and I know for sure you have two small children AND YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY DIVORCED YET.  Tacky.  But oh my gahd if I say no you might create a cocaine-induced scene with your jackhammer knee right here in front of all these classy people in tuxedos and ball gowns.  Then you’ll storm out of the theatre and leave me alone in NYC with no money to get home.

Fuck.

I didn’t want to call a family member to send me money, mainly because they didn’t have any, so I devised a better plan.  A plan I’d seen him execute flawlessly so many times before.

I lied.

Knowing I would give the ring to his mother when we got home, I shifted into Julia Roberts mode and squeaked out a playful giggle and a “yes.”  Everyone in the lobby cheered, and then I teared up. Not for the reasons most girls do when they get engaged.  But because for all the lies he told me, this lie, MY lie, was the biggest lie you can tell someone. Payback is a bitch.

A heartwarming, fabulous bitch.

I’ve never been so happy to see the Welcome to South Carolina sign.

I gave the ring to his mother, hoping the family heirloom would be safe.  Later that summer I packed up my Ford Explorer and drove to Los Angeles. With no job, no plan, and $300. Because that’s what you do when it’s time to start over.

But not before he stalked me, got me fired from my job, and his estranged wife subpoenaed me to testify in their divorce proceedings.

Comments

  1. He got you fired?!?! What a dick! This isn’t the same guy that Aussa dated, is it? I really don’t like to think that there are that many assholes out there.

  2. This is remarkable. I’m at the lady doctor and this story is how I am coping. Excellent.

  3. Pity the ring was an heirloom. Sounds like he’d have deserved it if you kept it.

    But it sounds like you managed to get out, so…

    • Well, she gave it back to him (no comment), and being the fantastic jackass he is, he pawned it. BUT, there was no way I was keeping it – that’s bad ju ju no one needs. Believe it.

  4. I really don’t think you gave this guy a fair chance. Sure, he was a lying, drug-abusing scumbag…but he did wake you to see the sunset. Most women would beg for romance like that.

  5. I too, was previously schmoozed, by one I like to refer to as “ASPD”–anti-social personality disorder man. He was damn good. Thank god he never bought me a ring, even though one time he said he did, and because I kicked him out and got a PFA on him, he returned it and didn’t ask me to marry him. lol

    • Isn’t it amazing how talented they are??? I don’t know where you get training like that, but I respect it. From way over here in another state.

      • Too bad I have to see mine from time to time. . .either on the local most-wanted page, or the booking photo page! bwahahaha Another good reason for me to move to a land far, far away!

      • At least you’re not seeing him in real life – score! Someone sent me a mug shot of Douchey McFuckerson (thanks Don for that awesome nickname haha) a year or so ago. I sighed a huge sigh of relief – thank gahhhhd I dodged that bullet! I’m so glad you did too – hooray!

  6. Hey, you got a trip to and from NYC for your trouble. 🙂
    Seriously though, him becoming a stalker and a general douche nozzle sucks. I hope you’ll follow up with a story on how you got even for the firing, etc.

  7. Whoa… you sure know how to attract the crazies. Guess that was a result of all the circus living… and, well, being crazy yourself. HAHAHA…

    • In my defense, he’s the only crazy person I ever attracted. Well attracted and didn’t run away from. The rest of my suitors have all been appropriate and upstanding members of society : )

  8. At the very least you got a show out it! What an adventure. I’m sorry he lingered so long in your life. You gave back the ring, you think that would enough of a hint!

    • Here’s the thing about crazy people, they don’t take hints. Here’s the thing about naive girls who’ve only had one boyfriend before meeting a crazy person, neither do they : ) That goodness we live and learn and grow up – hooray!

  9. That was an absolutely fantastic story. i cant imagine what the trip back was like after getting engaged in new york. Making plans for the rest of your lives knowing it would be over in a few short hours HAHA

  10. Sounds like you dodged a sick bullet with that one, though it appears you didn’t get off scot-free. But you did get a blog post out of the deal, so, there’s that! (In fact, maybe he’s reading it. 😉 )

  11. I always love a train wreck story when I know it turned out ok in the end. Well, I don’t know how ok rabbits and cats and hanging out in American Girl stores really is, but I’m sure it’d been worse had you stayed with douchey McFuckerson. Wait, no you said Cocaine Boy. Him.

    • Hahahaha thank you for Douchey McFuckerson – that’s the BEST NICKNAME EVER! This was definitely a train wreck, but thankfully it all ended well. I love a happy ending : )

  12. Damn, I don’t think I would have had the heart for that. I would have just said no and ran…. As I type that, that sounds like an equally stupid move…..

  13. I don’t know if you’re a genius or just really dumb. I’m going for a really dumb genius : ) I’m glad getting you fired was all he did. Stalkers can do a lot more than that.

  14. I would have absolutely done the same thing you did, and maybe getting fired was the quick way that the universe said “next chapter!”

    Thanks for getting me through my long wait at the lady doctor. 🙂

  15. Oh my gawd. This story is so good. I can’t even handle it.

  16. Twindaddy says:

    Yikes. Where do all these crazy people come from?

  17. You girls all like the bad boys. You snap out of it eventually but, from my observations, it appears that when you’re in your early 20’s you gravitate towards the handsome train wrecks. Why is that, I wonder? An act of rebellion?

    Glen Close. That staircase. How’d you like it? And how did you score tickets!? If I remember correctly, it was pretty popular. One doesn’t just roll into town and score tix for a popular Bway musical without paying through the nose.

    Your acceptance was an act of survival. Nothing more. Thank GOODNESS my daughters will never pull a stunt like that on me.

    Will they?

    • I think some girls (me) just have to learn the hard way. Also, I had pretty shitty examples of relationships. I had to undo some thought patterns – totally worth all those dollars on the couch : ). I have no idea how those theatre tickets were gotten, but I loved it. Have seen it twice and would go again in a second! I’m sure your girls will make great choices about boys from the start – because they have you as a role model : )

      • That’s very flattering and I appreciate your kind words, but I often worry that they’ll go off the rails during their inevitable rebellion. Not much I can do except hope they turn out just like you did (without the need for all those dollars on the couch!).

  18. Oh… oh, boy. I think they call those street smarts. Mine aren’t so finely honed, but respect. That said… I did once date a boy who convinced me he had “leg cancer” so I would lie to my parents and drive three hours to visit him. Yes, I was an idiot. Yes, he had X-rays to “prove” it. He was filthy rich, and lived in a house with a Blue Room and a Green Room… oh, Molly – I don’t even know. How do we get involved with these people?

  19. That story took guts to tell. Hope you gave him a second chance, and you two lovebirds worked everything out, because everyone deserves a second are you believing my tear-soaked kumbaya right now? lol

  20. Ay Dios Mio! What a story! It’s funny, I am about to post a story about a whacko boyfriend too. Why are there so many of them around? Que loco!

  21. You handled that exactly right and, really, it was the kind thing to do. No one needs to be publicly humiliated, especially at the THEATRE (re not er), you ensured everyone was safely returned home, and you gave the beloved-by-someone-else ring to a safe(ish) guardian.

    You, Molly, are nothing if not a humanitarian.

  22. Wow. That’s a story and a half. Maybe even more…

  23. I love it! A girl has to do what she has to do to get home. 🙂

    I had my bad-boy time as well. Fortunately, I too, lived to make better decisions!

  24. I’m not sure why, but reading this made my heart race and my nose run.

  25. This blog is hilarious …although I think I’m the only dude here. But, ummm, that’s not such a bad thing.

  26. Holy moly. You sure know how to tell a good tale. Wowza. And I just love that animated GIF 😉

  27. So obviously the title begged the story but I fully see how it played out now. On the other hand, driving ten hours on a whim is the kind of thing that seems like a good idea at 26. I remember being 26, but luckily I was married to a non-drug addict non-stalker by that time so it was pretty much just the driving.

  28. OMG, woman. OMG. You’re a much better actress than me.

Trackbacks

  1. […] “What a fantastic jackass. Six months before early retirement. Haha. In your FACE, Dr. Butthole.”  Mollytopia.com […]

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