http://nypost.com/2013/09/24/i-wooed-my-man-with-a-sandwich/
I was once that girl woman in her late twenties who was desperately in love with a Star Wars geek. I was infatuated with him from the moment I laid eyes on him when we were 19 and “just friends”. He was the one I’d always wanted and no one else would do. I was thrilled when we began dating, so much so that I put up with all kinds of nonsense over the next 5 years. By nonsense, let’s just summarize and say that the relationship was very one-sided, and everyone saw it but me. He was not abusive, or even mean. He did not cheat on me, nor did I ever worry about it. He JUST WASN’T INTO ME.
The book by the same name came out while we were still dating. I was seriously offended when my mother tried to give me a copy as a “hint”. She tried to disguise it by saying that the book was “really funny!” I persevered because I knew my man loved me, no doubt about it. He loved me so much that he moved into a house with me after three years of long-distance dating. After purchasing the house two years later, he looked at me fondly one night and asked, “What are we waiting for?” Confused, I asked what he meant. “We’ve been together five years, we’re both 30, we bought a house…we should get married!” This, ladies and gentlemen, was my proposal.
I was so excited that I was beside myself. Finally! All my waiting had paid off! He knew that I didn’t want to plan a big wedding, so we began discussing eloping to the Caribbean. Shortly into the conversation, I mentioned wanting an engagement ring. He calmly stated that he simply could not afford to buy me a ring and marry me at the same time. I was given a choice: “I can buy you a ring now, and we can get married next year. Or, we can get married in a couple months and I’ll buy you a ring later on down the road. My dad did that for my mom!” I was so hell bent on snagging him forever that I chose the wedding first and the ring later. Do you know yet where this story is going?
I won’t bore you with the details, but I never got a ring, and we divorced after two years of marriage. Not over the ring in particular, but its symbolism was at the heart of my dissatisfaction. So when I hear that some drop dead gorgeous, intelligent woman is more than happy to make her man 300 sandwiches in order to get an engagement ring, I cringe. Stephanie, honey, where is your sandwich that he made for you? And why do you have to make 300? Have you looked at him? I mean, he’s not even hot and you are a fucking bombshell. I know you’re in this for the long haul and will probably get a great book deal or something out of this…fine. I get that. But I truly hope you do not get a ring from this man who supposedly loves you. I hope you get the biggest, brightest diamond ring you’ve ever seen, hidden inside a sandwich made for YOU by someone who adores you and will treat you like the jewel you are.
Uptown Girl 