Engagement Stories are Supposed to be Beautiful
It’s become an American tradition these days to have a grandiose engagement story. Horse-drawn carriages. Trips to Paris. Mountain chalets. The like.
In perfectly manicured settings, couples are committing themselves together and are popping the question to their best friends. No doubt those stories are beautiful…
This is not that story. Instead, this is a story about how two people traveled several hundred miles, moved furniture for hours in the Los Angeles heat, and got engaged at an inopportune moment on the Ferris Wheel at Santa Monica Pier.
We had a pretty crazy relationship for a few years. Without going into too much detail, we took a break while living in San Francisco and Jess relocated to Los Angeles. Shortly thereafter, realizing the error of our ways (errrr...maybe just my ways), Mark found a consulting firm that would relocate him to Los Angeles, and we agreed to move in together.
Accompanying Mark on this relocation adventure, Jess flew up to San Francisco, helped him pack his car, and we had a mini-vacation traveling down Highway 1 to Los Angeles. What could be better than driving a fully-loaded car down the bumper-to-bumper Highway 1 over Labor Day Weekend? Brilliant planning, Mark. Way to go.
It was amazing planning by Mark. He forgets to mention that not only did he fly me up to San Francisco, he reserved a penthouse room at the Ritz for us. This room came with rose petals on the bed and a bucket of champagne. Overlooking the sparkling city lights that night, I thought for sure there was going to be an appearance of a ring. Needless to say, I was wrong. Maybe he was saving it for our first stop out of the city, which was Big Sur?
In Big Sur we spent the afternoon at Pfeiffer Beach, had a spectacular dinner at Nepenthe and then went back to our cozy cabin. As I built up the wood fire and opened a bottle of wine, I was thinking for sure it would be tonight. However when I went to comment on how perfect the day and night was, I realized that Mark was fast asleep. Ok...maybe he is saving it for the next spot on the trip, Santa Barbara.
It was when we pulled into the Motel 8 in Santa Barbara, I realized that the engagement was most likely not going to happen. Interestingly, we had no clue that that weekend was the Summer Solstice Celebration. Motel 8 was the only spot with vacancies. This festival draws over a hundred thousand spectators who will watch a parade, join in on the dancing, music and whimsical costumes. It was a great day full of people watching and exploring the downtown. The next morning it was off to LA … maybe, but doubtful any engagement would happen on arrival as we would be moving.
Behind the scenes, Mark had informed his very large family - all of them - that he intended to pop the question to Jess during the roadtrip. Again...brilliant.
Daily, my phone buzzed with text messages from family, “ Have you done it yet?” And - daily - my response back was, “Go away.”
Herein lied one of my key challenges with the trip: Although I had made plans for each day’s activities and events, I hadn’t actually planned the engagement part yet. My operating philosophy was that the engagement moment would be spontaneous. At some point, there would be this perfect moment when time stopped. I’d stare into Jessica’s walnut eyes, get down on one knee, and ask for her hand in marriage. (For clarity, this is a travel website. Not a wedding planning website!)
Making matters worse was the actual ring. Since I didn’t have an actual engagement plan and I was waiting for the moment to hit me, I had to carry the damn ring with me everywhere I went! And - since I am pretty much known for losing everything I buy - I was freaked out that the ring would fly out of my pocket at some point along this trip. Like a nervous tick, I kept checking to confirm the box remained in my pocket.
I am completely and utterly surprised the ring made it the whole trip!
By the time we reached LA, Mark had completely blown it. He had missed all the great opportunities that had presented themselves over the trip, and we arrived in LA still boyfriend-girlfriend...with a dozen angry messages from my family.
We hate to move. I think we are allergic to it because every time we move we become irritable, our backs hurt, and we sneeze from the dust collected on our furniture. Nevertheless, today’s move was a welcome relief from the anxiety building up in my mind. Each cell phone beep was another query from my family. Each brush against my leg was another reminder about the rock boring a hole through my jeans!
After a few hours of moving in the LA heat, we smelled. We smelled bad. Our shirts were drenched with sweat, and our clothes looked like Pollock paintings of dust, liquid, dirt, etc. And dinner time was approaching. Meaning, I had but a few hours to pop the question before opportunity was lost.
I wish I had known this question was still being considered because I would've showered before the main event :-)
“Let’s just grab some food at Mercado,” Mark said. Mercado is a great Mexican joint near the Santa Monica Pier and had one of our favorite appetizers, churiqueso. Nyom Nyom Nyom. Not wanting to disappoint me on our very first night together, Jess complied and we headed to Mercado for a delicious dinner. Did I mention we smelled?
We both smelled!! And they had to practically roll us out of the restaurant.
“It’s so nice out tonight. Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” I said after dinner. Again not wanting to disappoint me, Jess agreed to go on the excursion. Although, this time came with the forewarning that “tomorrow is a workday.”
Summer nights along the Santa Monica Beach are beautiful. As far as the eye can see, the Pacific Ocean is lit up with the lights of the boardwalk, seaside Malibu, and Venice Beach. At dusk, the sand reaches a tolerable, barefeet temperature, and the light ocean breeze offers solace from the day’s heat. The most prominent site is the Santa Monica Pier, dominated by the ferris wheel whirling in a neon light show.
“Let’s go on the Ferris Wheel,” Mark said.
“Really? The Ferris Wheel?" Jess said. “It’s getting late, and we have to work tomorrow. Maybe we should just go home.”
“C’mon. Just one ride on the ferris wheel, and we’ll get outta here.” Mark pleaded. I was getting desperate.
“Mark, we haven’t showered all day. I’m feeling kind of disgusting now. Let’s make it quick and go home.” Deal.
I really did not want to go on the Ferris Wheel!
This was it. I had made up my mind that this would be the spot. After logging several hundred miles, moving in triple-digit heat, and eating enough food to kill a small animal...this was the perfect moment to pop the big question! I’ll do it on the very top of the Ferris Wheel, and it’ll be super romantic.
The full weight of this decision hit me immediately. As I inched my way to the ticket line, I extended several shaky dollars to pay for the ride. My nerves were already fraying.
“Do you want your picture taken,” asked the attendant. “Step right over here.” Before I knew it, we were being rushed in front of a green screen, and - a flash later - our picture was taken by a CGI-camera.
Getting on the Ferris Wheel, the butterflies had turned into pterodactyls. I felt queasy...I felt scared...was there an exit door?! And then we started going up…
I thought maybe he had just eaten too much and was reconsidering his decision on the ride.
It had been a few years since I had ridden a ferris wheel, and the mechanics of the wheel had been lost on me. Given the chaos in my mind and my utterly irrational thinking, I completely forgot other people may also be getting on the ferris wheel. To do that, the wheel stops in proportionate increments to accommodate these “other riders.”
My plan failed to account for these “other riders,” and I assumed the wheel would simply progress at a consistent clip skywardly to the top. As it goes, I completely misjudged the time-space continuum, and bounded off the bench to one knee like a complete doofus. That’s when the wheel stopped...less than a few meters up the damn arc.
Jess looked at me like I was probably stroking out. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good. You’re really white...really sweaty…” Romantic.
“Jess...uhhhh...I love you. Wanna - ya know - do this thing?” More beautiful words could not have been written by Shakespeare.
Not entirely knowing what “this thing” is, Mark presented a still intact ring from his pocket. Jessica’s face immediately lit up, matching the same shade of neon as the lights dotting the ferris wheel. “YES!!!” she said while simultaneously hugging Mark so hard that nearly stumbled off the ferris wheel.
It turned out most of the customers in line saw the engagement because we were so close to the ground. In no way, shape, or form had we come close to the top of the Ferris Wheel. Instead, I’m pretty sure someone could have handed me a slushy if I just put my hand through the railing. From there, we spun around a bit...Jess staring at her new jewelry; Mark texting his family that he had finally completed the task!
The whole trip I was wondering why his family was so concerned on our travel details and stops…
When we left the Ferris Wheel, the attendant had asked us whether or not we wanted our pre-ride photo. From afar, there were dozens of photos left by riders throughout the day that didn’t want to pay the ridiculous fees to actually buy their photos. But even at some distance, we spotted an anomaly in the library display. One photo appeared to have a ghost in it. Someone had apparently ridden the ferris wheel with a ghost! How crazy…
Sure enough though, that ghost was me.
It is still one of my favorite pictures ever!
Grabbing the photo, Mark suggested a celebratory drink. I think he needed it more for his nerves than anything. Fortunately, there is a great spot off the beaten path of the pier called Big Dean’s.
Big Dean’s would probably not be anyone’s first choice in an after engagement drink. It’s a great, chill spot for beers and sports. Not very swanky, but it fit the bill as we looked pretty terrible. Walking into Big Dean’s at 10pm on a Monday night, we were pretty much the only people there! Letting the bar know what we just did, drinks ensued and we danced on the sand in our very dirty, very smelly clothes...not caring about a thing in the world.
Overall, I couldn’t imagine this story any other way. And Mark chose the moment of the trip when I would be completely surprised. Who needs super romantic anyways? It was beautiful in our own little way, as it should be. And now the Santa Monica Pier holds a special place in our hearts.