So there I was: uncomfortably seated in flight AC 906 out of Toronto, medicated into a Dramamine stupor and stewing in the guilt of having forgotten the engagement ring for my surprise proposal dinner that evening. Little did I know that was only the first of the problems we would encounter before the day's end.
Nevertheless, by the time our flight touched down at Orlando International Airport, a plan was hatched to buy a placeholder ring at the gift shop and promise my DF the real ring (which is pretty spectacular) upon our return home. We're coming from Canada, and I briefly considered telling her I didn't want to risk transporting an expensive ring into America and risk paying duty on the way home, but that would be a fib. Fibbing to the fiancee is probably a bad start to the whole marriage thing. (When I purchased the ring, the jeweller suggested I take the receipt on the trip with me to prevent duties from being charged. I forgot the receipt as well.) This is the ring I purchased for twelve dollars:
Yeah, it's not so great, but it's the only ring they had on sale at the AKL gift shop. It's also a coil and not really a ring. We actually went and bought another, better Mickey Mouse souvenir ring at the GF gift shop afterwards. Here is that ring:
So my DF actually has three engagement rings! The more the better, right? Right?
Anyway, that was just the first of a number of things to go wrong with my super-special surprise engagement dinner, not counting, y'know... forgetting the ring.
The second thing that went wrong: we found out, upon our arrival at our hotel, that the camera we'd purchased just before the trip, an amazing Canon G12, had run out of batteries. The problem is, we couldn't get at the charger because my DF had packed it in her suitcase, which had yet to be delivered. She said, Oh well, it's only dinner. We can have the camera charged for the parks tomorrow. Meanwhile, I was absolutely withering inside. We had this big, important, life-changing dinner, and no camera to record it.
Cameraless and ringless, we made our way to the Grand Floridian. My girlfriend was under the impression that we were dining at 1900 Park Fare, and was surprised when we instead met our personal butler in the lobby. He pulled me aside and discreetly asked if we were celebrating a special occasion and I told him I was going to propose during dinner. A wink and a nod, and we were taken up to the fifth floor. There, we were seated in wingback chairs at a table overlooking the GF with the castle in full in the distance. Notice I said fifth floor which is not the third floor balcony I'd asked for. The rainy weather moved our dinner to the indoor location. That was the third thing that went wrong.
Can I just pause and make an aside here? The best Disney servers have a great knack for balancing jovial familiarity with professional, precise delivery of food. One never feels intimidated at a Disney restaurant, like you need to impress the server; they're there to help you through the meal. It's something most restaurants and service industry never achieve, but you see it time and again, whether its at the Disney parks or on a
Disney cruise. Our server on this day had that knack. Service was timed precisely, with enough conviviality to make us comfortable. Which forgives him for what's coming soon.
The fourth thing that went wrong: Perhaps it was the plane trip or the Florida heat, but our appetites deserted us and we were both uncomfortably stuffed by the time our entrees arrived. We each only took a couple of bites of what was otherwise a delicious meal. It was a terrible waste, and when I thought of the headaches I'd gone through to organize the dinner, the forgotten ring and absent camera, I was feeling like the evening was a total disaster. Everything seemed to be going wrong, and by the time the entrees were cleared from our tables, I'd begun to rethink whether I wanted to propose that night or wait for a do-over. I wanted to mulligan my proposal. Look over there! It's Mickey! I'd exclaim, and while she'd have her head turned I'd scoot off, leaving only a man-shape cloud of dust, and live to propose another day.
What did I do, dear readers? You'll find out in the stunning conclusion of the proposal trilogy. It's really not that stunning, I guess. It turns out well!