People accept road warning signs like they came etched in tablets down from Sinai. Yet they treat overtly obvious signs that they’re about to enter into marriage with the wrong person as a certain misread on their part. No red flag perhaps more overt than your boyfriend flashing his and hers tickets to the Coldplay concert. Check his Google search history from the beginning of time, now. He might as well be asking you if you think your brother would ever want to go to the beach again with you guys. By the time he’s imploring Chris Martin to help him ask for your hand in marriage, the time space continuum has created that moment down the road where you find him doing something for which he assures you he can explain. Cry to your mom. She’s been waiting for this phone call.
The number of proposals at Coldplay concerts is on the rapid rise. It’s become a regular feature of every tour stop. Men who relish the drama of marriage proposals are no men at all. It’s like being giddy about going off to war. Only the exact opposite. Men don’t seek out attention nor do they listen to morose British men on tiny keyboards moaning aloud in dulcet tones. Gay Beethoven was a henpecked sod who finally took the initiative to change the locks while Gwyneth Paltrow was out providing salmon roe facial cleansers to the homeless.
There’s nothing romantic about any of this. She’s crying now. Yes, that means blowjobs every day of your marriage. Wait, I meant she’ll be giving them to you. What did you mean? I can see the ball gag in your man satchel. This all could’ve been so easily prevented.