I worked the night shift at a motel for a few months in college. The state fair came to town, and a couple of the guests would stop by in the evenings to chat with me. They told me they were carnies and were with the company doing the midway rides. They would use the washer/dryer and ask for mail. One of the guys was waiting for a prescription to come in the mail for a terminal illness. After seeing them six nights a week for better than two weeks, we got to be on pretty good terms.

The man who needed his prescription noticed that I wore a ring on my left ring finger and asked me if I was married. I told him no, but that it was a promise ring from my boyfriend. He would chat, make friendly conversation, and pay me an occasional compliment — but he was always respectful. He told me that if I made it to the fair to make sure I stopped to say hello and that he’d like to meet my boyfriend, too.

When we finally got our chance to go, we did just that. It was next to the last night of the fair, we had some passes from my boyfriend’s work, and the friends I’d made at the motel made sure we didn’t have to pay for any of the rides that night.

The next night, my carnie friends let me know that they’d be checking out in the morning. The guy who had asked about my ring hung back for a moment.

Carnie: “So that was your boyfriend, huh?”

To my complete surprise, after I had confirmed, he said:

Carnie: “I think you could do better… like right here! I’ll marry you and let you run away with me!”

Me: *Politely* “Um… Thank you, but no.”

Carnie: “I had to try!”

Then, he thanked me for being kind to him during his stay, and he left.

My boyfriend has a toy stuffed dragon named Goldie. Goldie was my boyfriend’s very first birthday gift, as he was born in the Year of the Dragon. He absolutely loves it to bits — to the point where he outright wrote in his will that when he passes away, Goldie is to be cremated alongside him.

After about half a decade together, my boyfriend and I are living together. He takes me out for a really fancy dinner one day, and he pulls out all the romantic stops. I get really excited that he’s about to propose.

But then, the date just drags on, and nothing happens. I’m somewhat disappointed but still happy. It’s rare for my thrifty boyfriend to ever spend so much money.

But then we go back home, and I find a stuffed dragon toy on my bed. It’s the exact same size and shape as Goldie but slightly different. Unlike Goldie, who’s gold with red wings, this dragon is silver with electric blue wings — my two favourite colours — and has lipstick and girlier eyes.

And she’s sitting on top of a note.

Note: “My name is Sylvie. Goldie loves me to bits. Should I marry him?”

Me: “Yes! Oh, my God, yes!”

I dash right out of my room and basically pounce on my boyfriend, still incoherently screaming, “Yes!”

Later, after I’ve calmed down…

Me: “So, what gave you the idea to use Sylvie to propose?”

Boyfriend: “I found a toy-making service online that could clone stuffed toys, and I was like, ‘I can use that.’ So, I contacted them to make Sylvie. I mean, no offence to rings, but they’re so… textbook. I wanted something a bit more novel than them.”

Me: “Uh-huh. And the real reason?”

Boyfriend: *Sheepishly* “It was cheaper to commission Sylvie than to buy a diamond ring. I figured that I could do more with less.”

Me: “Cheapskate.”

Boyfriend: “Like you’d have me any other way.”

Best proposal ever.

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I am a security guard at a sports stadium during a busy event. An angry-looking customer has left his seat and found me in the concourse.

Customer: “There are two perverts making a display of themselves for all to see!”

Shocked, I follow him and start looking around. I see no evidence of a “perverted display”. I ask him for details.

Customer: *Pointing* “Those two men! Right there!”

Me: “They’re just sitting down during halftime, sir. What am I supposed to be seeing here?”

Customer: “Well, they’re not doing it now, but earlier one got down on his knee and proposed to the other! At a football match! That’s obscene!”

Me: “So, you’re saying the perverted display was a couple getting engaged in public?”

Customer: “These two men should not be promoting their choices in front of a crowd, especially my children!”

Me: “Ah… So, it’s homophobia, then.”

Customer: “It is not homophobia, but they’re ramming it down our throats! All the time! I’m sick of seeing it!”

Me: “But you wouldn’t have had an issue if the couple proposing in front of everyone was straight?”

Customer: “Well… I…”

Me: “Sir, what I do next based on your complaint means you need to answer me honestly right now. Would you have an issue with any couple getting engaged at the stadium, or is it just that particular couple?”

Customer: “Look, I can see what you’re trying to do. I can see that you’re not sympathetic to my values so I would like to talk to the guy in charge.”

Me: “In charge of security?”

Customer: “Yes!”

I comply with his request and call over the head of security who is, by her own admission, the “butchest lesbian on the East Coast”. She is terrifying when she wants to be, and after I tell her why I have called her over, she comes by on a rampage. As soon as she approaches, I introduce her to the customer.

Customer: *To me* “This is the head of security?!”

Me: “As requested!”

Security Manager: “So, you’re the one whose masculinity was attacked by two men finding happiness?”

Customer: “That is no way to professionally deal with a complaint!”

Security Manager: “If you had a complaint, then I would take it seriously. You have a prejudice, and those I will mock like the useless wastes of oxygen that they are. Now, will you shut up and enjoy the second half of the game, or will I be doing some escorting today?”

The customer glares at us both but says he will try to focus on the game despite the obscene displays.

Security Manager: “Excellent! I’m going to enjoy watching the game myself from riiiiiight here, just to make sure that all our valued guests can also enjoy the rest of the game without anyone causing a scene.”

She does as she said she would, and the bigot leaves his seat a few minutes before the end of the game. He mutters something about sexuality being a choice and how we shouldn’t defend that choice.

Manager: *Shouting out to him as he leaves* “Oh, my God! It’s a choice! Why didn’t you tell me? That would have saved me years of homelessness after being kicked out! Wow… I learned something new today!”

I love working with her.

The way my mum and dad got together was like something out of a cheesy romance movie. Mum was eighteen and Dad was nineteen when they met at a house for a party. At the time, my mum had a boyfriend, but after talking to her, my dad could not get her out of his head. He then spent a month searching for her, only knowing her first name. He found her boyfriend, who was now her ex, but he told my dad that he had no idea who he was talking about.

At the beginning of the next month, my dad was out on a date at a pizza parlor… where he saw my mum on a date, as well. They all decided to sit together. Halfway through, my mum’s date ditched her, so my dad decided to take both girls home. He dropped off his date first so he could talk to my mum for a little longer.

They came to a stoplight, and the radio was playing a song called “Little Arrows”, which is about Cupid shooting arrows at random people so they’ll fall in love. My dad leaned over the steering wheel and looked up at the sky.

Mum: “Um… what are you doing?”

Dad: “Lookin’ for arrows.”

Mum tells me that she knew right then that this was the man she would marry. Two weeks later, Dad proposed. They were together for almost thirty years before Dad passed away.

(My boyfriend and I have discussed eventually wanting to get married in the future but never put any plans into motion. So, I order a simple ring with a fried egg on it. Around Christmas, I give it to him.)

Me: “Hey, sweetie, open this.”

Boyfriend: *opening the box* “What is this?”

Me: “It is your egg-agement ring.”

(I got hit with a pillow, but we’ve been happily married for a year now.)

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