On the anniversary of or first date, Brett presented me with a book, hand-made by my dear friend Jessica. On the cover was a drawing of two fortune cookies, and a fortune which read,"Place special emphasis on old friendship." In the book, Brett had detailed the story of how we met, became friends, and fell in love. The last page of the story described the two of us sitting together, as a young woman read a story about how a man would later "get down on one knee, and…" There, at the bottom of the page, was this: "(Page Missing)". (Honestly, I could barely read it through my tears!) I looked at Brett, and he told me that the night was going to require a lot of patience, as he had planned many things to take place during the course of our anniversary celebration together.
We finished our glasses of wine, and caught a cab to our soon-to-be new favorite restaurant. We were seated at a table in the corner of the tiny dining room, and as we sipped champagne, Brett backed his chair precariously close to the table behind him, and picked up a note from the floor on bended knee. It was the missing page, which turned out to be one of many. I read the page, which described exactly what we were doing at that time, enjoying a glass of champagne, and awaiting an amazing meal. The note further described how we would order dessert, and it would arrive with a special flourish, and the girl would probe the dessert to find…(Page Missing)
For dessert, I ordered an American farmhouse cheese plate, and was looking for something shiny, when Brett told me to look beneath the plate. Another missing page! This one told of the car Brett had reserved in advance to be waiting for us outside after we finished, and how this car would take us to the next destination.
The car service took us to a familiar corner in the Village, East 7th and Cooper Union. We walked from that corner to where Brett and I had spent our first afternoon together, almost three years ago: McSorley’s Old Ale House. McSorley’s, the oldest bar in New York, was a place where we had spent many hours over those past three years drinking rounds of beer with our friends, and with each other. (When I had imagined where Brett might take me for this special, though not unforseen, occasion, I decided that McSorley’s was the place I would choose.) But of course, there was a line out front, as there frequently was, and I worried aloud that we wouldn’t be able to get in. Brett marched me past the line, and into the front door, where he said to the door man, "I’m Brett." The man patted him on the back, and ushered us inside. Brett and I took a spot by the crowded bar, and ordered. Brett left me to enjoy the brew, and returned with another missing page. He said for me to wait five seconds, then to read it.
This page was an eloquent profession of his love for me, which I will leave to your imagination, and say that the page ended by saying, "When you finish reading, look at me." I looked up, and couldn’t find him anywhere, through my tears, or through the haze of patrons. At this point, the bartender rang the bell behind the bar, which startled me to turn around. There was Brett behind the bar, making his way towards me. Everyone in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch, as Brett came from behind the bar with a carved wooden box he had given to me at the beginning of our relationship. He said that he had wanted to give me a piece of jewelry in that box for a long time, and we opened the box together to find the engagement ring. (I was sobbing and laughing hysterically.) He got down on one knee, and said,"Emily Webster, will you marry me?" Then he tried to put the ring on my right finger, and I gave him my left. He put the ring on my finger, and a few minutes of kissing ensued, while being cheered on by the whole bar. Then I remembered to say "Yes!"
Proposal Story By:
New Orleans, LA