The Proposal

From New York on
February 11, 2014 - 1:08pm

Flashback: It was Valentine's Day 2013. I was dressed as a piece of cake. You might have questions about my tasty choice of clothing. While I did have sparkling, delicious frosting, it is a part of my job. I am a singing telegram delivery girl. Valentine's Day is our busiest day of the year. On this particular day, I had the potential to become wedding cake because I was delivering a proposal to a blushing bride. Tom, her aspiring fiancé, had hired me. Cupid, or perhaps stupid, was going to send Marley, the lady in waiting, on a scavenger hunt where at the end he would propose. This adventure had stops based on their relationship. I was the bakery where they first kissed. The backstory was, Marley had moved from Wisconsin and had worked as a pastry chef before deciding to change gears and become a food writer. While a connoisseur of baked goods, Marley was what was known as a food snob. Tom had promised her this was the best bakery in Park Slope. The tasty cake and date and lived up to Marley's standards, because the evening ended in a kiss. Now here I was decked out in all my sugary splendor. My job was to spot the future blushing bride. In my hand I had a photo of her. While it would be wonderful if Tom had given me a close up shot, he didn't. The photo was taken from far away. Marley had on a black trench coat, a black hat and had a midnight main of hair. As a bonus, she sported dark Greta Garbo glasses. In the words of Tom Hanks in Saving Private Ryan, "Like looking for a needle in a stack of needles." Looking tastier than ever, people asked what I was doing there. The bakery owner, God bless him, even gave me a cup of hot chocolate because I was doing my job with little or no clothing in the cold, February weather. When older people learned of my mission, they regaled me with their own proposal stories. Some young jacks thought the idea of a singing cake proposal was neat, and took photos of me with their cellphones. Of course, during all this I asked every woman with dark glasses, dark hair, and a black coat if they were Marley. Each shot me a strange look and said, "No." Just when the novelty of risking pneumonia so one young woman could live her Disney fantasy was beginning to wear off, I saw another clone approach. Trying my luck I asked, "Are you Marley?" "Yes!" She squealed like a 90s child who was watching The New Kids on the Block in their prime. "And this is the best cake costume I have ever seen!" So I told Marley I was a magical cake with a magical message. While it was corny in so many different ways, I said, "I have a special message for a very exciting girl." That is when I began singing "You Must Be A Special Lady" originally sung by Ray, Goodman, and Brown. While I had prepared something else originally, I felt this was more fitting. Sure, I might not sing R and B but my costume made up for it. As I sang to Marley, people took advantage of modern technology, and began to capture the occasion. Others pressed their faces against the store windows as I engaged in a little dance. One semi-senile, probably homeless gentleman got out his cigarette lighter and waved it in the air. Others clapped along. Some people who knew the song began to sing with me. Marley had a huge smile on her face. Tears began to roll down her eyes. My work was not done yet. Tom had written a poem. While hardly Maya Angelou quality it served it's purpose. It read: Marley, I wanted to win your heart No matter what it would take So like Marie Antoinette I just wanted to let you eat cake It was so good That you couldn't diss This is where we shared our first kiss. The crowd, loving this gesture, clapped wildly. Marley stood speechless. That is when she yelled, "I think I know where I have to go next. And he has a ring. I am going to tell him yes!" The gathering of people cheered. While we jaded by Disney fiction, who doesn't like a happily ever after? Thus Tom finished Valentine's Day a very happy man, and I did what all single girls do on this day. Had a cake and some ice cream. I deserved it, right?

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