I proposed marriage five times in my life that I can recall. It is interesting to note that NONE of them ended in marriage, leading me to conclude that even though marriage proposals and marriage may coincide, they are separate events. One proposal was not terribly serious. But it was a proposal of marriage, so it did have consequences. I was in college. Our fraternity had an outing to strip club called The Mermaid. I had never been to a strip club before and was unprepared for the descent into hell. The Mermaid was unforgettable. It was painted black. I suspect the choice was based on a sale of black paint at a local hardware store - or so that the building would blend into the night - sort of a cloak of invisibility to all but the discerning eye looking for The Mermaid. Inside, it smelled like a combination of disinfectant and popcorn. We ordered several pitchers of beer for the table. The lights dimmed. The show began. I was amazed that women just came on stage and took off almost all of their clothes to music. I mean – why did they need the music? The girls came and went. I kept drinking beer and was displaying the first stages of being a staggering drunk. That’s when Pamela came onto the stage. She was a pretty girl with long brown hair. She didn’t seem to have been plagued with acne like some of the other dancers. For some reason, during her dance, I started shouting, “I love you Pamela!” “Pamela, you are soooo beautiful!” “I want to marry you, Pamela!” There it was - a public proposal. Pamela finished her number and left the stage. All of my friends in the fraternity were laughing and patting me on the back. The next performer, Wendy and her Boa Constrictor, came on stage. The music started as we continued to eat more free popcorn and refill our beer glasses. From a side door of the Mermaid, a small woman in a bathrobe made her way to our table. It was Pamela. She held her robe closed tight across her body and asked our group, “Who was shouting during my act?” Our table got very quiet. She repeated, “I know it was one of you that was shouting at me while I was dancing.” My frat brothers pointed at me in unison as I sheepishly raised my hand. Pamela turned her attention to me and said, “I wanted to thank you. Usually, we girls have to dance in silence. We feel like nobody cares. But when you shouted those things about how beautiful I was, and that you loved me – it – it meant a lot. It made me feel good and, well, I wanted to thank you.” We all were stunned. Pamela continued to stun, “I would love it if you could be here every time I dance. I guess that would be impossible, but if you ever wanted to go out sometime, I would enjoy that.” My frat brothers started melting in their seats. I said, “Sure. When’s a good time for you?” Pamela said, “Well, I’m free tonight.” I said, “Sure.” Pamela brightened and said, “Great. I get off work at 2:30 this morning.” I didn’t even really hear her. I just smiled and nodded and said, “I’ll be here.” To be continued….
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 18:20:58 +0000
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