There are three sides to every story.
I look at the ring nestled comfortably in the velvet case as the diamonds on the band, duet with the emerald stone to produce a sparkling symphony.
‘It’s worth the cash,’ I mutter to myself, admiring the object in my hand. ‘Atleast when she’s shedding tears, I’ll know what the tears represent.’ I tell myself as I slip the velvet case back into the inner pocket of my jacket, waiting for her to join me on the table in our favourite restaurant.
I know you’re wondering what the ring has to do with knowing what the tears represent right? Well it’s simple, and I’ll tell you for free.
I have observed through painful research (watching display pictures, profile pictures, videos, Linda Ikeji blog and various other platforms) that there’s just one reason ladies cry when they are being proposed to, and that reason is nothing other than -the ring.
That little object -the ring- has a way of connecting with their emotions and bursting open the glands that produce tears causing the flood-fall that we all see during engagements.
On first look, it would seem like all the ladies were shedding tears of joy but as a sharp guy I could see that something was wrong as the pattern of crying could be classified into groups (to find out the detailed classification of the groups you can order for the book ‘The Psychology of Engagements – Sharp Guy‘) but for the purpose of telling this story, I would shrink all of the groups into two major categories .
If you’re a guy, this is the group you want your girlfriend to fall into, trust me. It has many shades of good in it (even though there’s a negligible possibility of negatives) and I’ll try to paint a picture of how you can identify the ladies in this group.
They cry in sniffles. The tears just roll down their eyes uncontrollably. They’re usually speechless or they keep repeating words like, ‘Thank you… Thank you’ or ‘I love you… I love you’.
All of these are symptoms of flabber-whelmsia, it’s usually a good thing.
The koko part for me however is when you notice that the hand with the ring finger is hanging in the air (like a chinese fighter doing one of the kungfu poses prior to combat) or she keeps twirling the hand with the ring finger like a butterfly set for take off.
It is at this point you know that the ring is a hit.
In her mind, she’s saying words like, ‘this boy try!!! He no fall my hand at all!‘ And her mind is thinking thoughts like, ‘this would look good on my dp, I’m going to redo my manicure to the ‘can’t you see my ring finger?’ Design, plus Moyo would go green with envy when she sees this,’ and many other thoughts that I can’t begin to share right now.
If you’re a guy, this is not a very good place to find yourself as it’s all shades of bad (even though there’s also a negligible possibility of positives).
I’ll paint a picture to help you identify the ladies in this group.
They don’t sniffle, they wail like Bob Marley and the Wailers. They cover their face with their hands -scratch that- they cover their ring with their face. They’re usually speechless as their mouth is too busy wailing to do anything else.
And their thoughts? Trust me you don’t want to know.
‘See the ring wey the mumu even buy for me’. ‘I thought I told him that I don’t like gold rings? And it’s not even real gold. Him for kukuma come tie wire for my hand now.
And when the sound of her crying accelerates to, ‘boohoooo,’ with catarrh running down from her nose, I can confidently tell you guys, it’s not a good sign as that sound is usually interpreted as, ‘I don suffer. This useless boy gather my friends come proposal, him no fit present me with diamond ring? What a public disgrace!
Sometimes I get a little confused when the crying becomes too much cos’ then she might be protesting way past the ring and be actually saying, ‘how can I say No now that you have set me up by assembling all our friends and family members.’ That’s when the ‘boohoooo,’ becomes really loud and I will not like to go into this aspect of the proposal.
Let’s stick with the drama that comes with whether she likes the ring or not, and that is why as I place the velvet case on the tray as we sit to dinner (You know true bosses don’t do that kneeling thing that suckers usually do), my eyes are pinned on hers as I try to fashion out the expressions forming on her face.
My girl is not usually a crier (which can make it more difficult to judge whether she’s a Sobber or a Wailer) and so I’d have to go into finer details to tell if she’s satisfied with the ring.
The place suddenly goes dark, but the sparkles from the diamonds on the ring lighten up the place enough for me to see the tears forming in her eyes. The emerald cap on the ring gives our table that greenish feel and as I pop the big question, a different question is playing in my mind -‘If you no go say yes, why you come dey follow me since all these years? Oya say yes make we continue to chop our food jeje jare.‘
I don’t hear her say yes or maybe that’s the part where she chokes as I slip the ring into her finger with a big smile on my face.
I return to my food to munch away as I’m really hungry. Glancing at her with side eyes as she remains speechless, fighting back the tears that’s threatening to drop from her eyes (I told you she’s not a crier right? Her mind too strong).
As we get up to leave the restaurant, some thirty minutes later, my head is up high and my shoulders are squared as I confidently march out with a happy fiancee, who’s not only in love with me but also in love with the ring.
I know you’re wondering how I’m so sure she loves the ring since she neither sobbed or wailed and didn’t display any of the symptoms of flabberwhelmsia that I talked about.
Well she did more than that as she stopped eating as soon as I placed the velvet case on the tray and slipped the ring into her finger.
For my girl to lose her appetite over a meal of fresh fish (which by the way is her favourite meal) the matter must be serious.
As we walk up to the car, the smiles playing around her lips is obvious to everyone in the restaurant as she sticks out her ring finger from her hand, making it as conspicuous as possible.
If that is not a symptom of flabberwhelmsia, I wonder what is. And as I step out of the restaurant feeling like a boss, I can only wonder on a scale of 10, how much she would rate the proposal.
If you ask me, I’d say with all humility that I broke the ceiling, that’s like 11 over 10 baby.
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