My first guest post for the New York Observerâ€™s bridal blog ran today, offering insights into the lesser known but equally taxing â€œbest man proposal.â€
Just in case youâ€™re too lazy to link overâ€¦ hereâ€™s the full version. Slacker.
MIKE: Choosing a groomsman was supposed to be easy – partly because I only had to choose one but mostly because I only had one in mind anyway: my brother.
Who knew it would be as challenging and emotionally taxing as the real proposal? Should I buy roses or just a beer? Is a walk in the park needed, or would a candle-lit dinner suffice?
Because I figured my brother would assume he was the chosen one, I waited until the last minute. But he thought I had someone else in mind and grew more and more agitated with every passing day.
â€œOK, all the arrangements are made,â€ I told him over beers. â€œWeâ€™re finally ready.â€
â€œOh â€¦ youâ€™re ALL done?â€
â€œYup – every last detail. Every â€¦ last â€¦ thing.â€
He hunched over his beer. When I raised my glass in celebration, he stubbornly offered a clink in return.
I returned home and Dana, my fiancee, had her hands on her hips. â€œDid you ask him yet?â€ she asked.
When I clapped my hand to my forehead, she rolled her eyes and headed to the phone. She handed it to me when my brother answered.
â€œItâ€™s me,â€ I said. â€œUm â€¦ listen â€¦ so I was wondering, what size suit do you wear?â€
Dana sighed. â€œOh, how sweet.â€