An unwelcome surprise

He presented me with a suspicious box wrapped in brown paper. It was small and had a pink ribbon tied round it. I say suspicious because this man was a prankster.

I gulped.

“What is this?” I asked him.

“Open it and see.” He grinned.

“Seriously, what is it?” I asked

“You’ll have to open it to find out.” He said, grinning even more.

“I’m tired of your games.” I said “What is it?”

“I told you, you’ll have to open it.” He was grinning through gritted teeth now.

“Ok.” I said uncertainly and continued to stare warily at the box wrapped with brown paper.

“Open it!” He demanded. “It isn’t a poisonous frog, I promise.”

I had been on three dates with this man and he had continuously been jokey with me. Pulling pranks and talking incessantly about himself. And now he had presented me with this suspicious tiny brown box.

I looked into this suddenly very earnest face and gulped again, as I pulled with a certain degree of fear on the pink ribbon.

It untied easily and no obvious movement came from the box. So gingerly I pried open the top…

Then there it was. In this plain suspicious box, a white gold diamond encrusted ring. I dare not even think how much it cost.

I gasped despite myself.

“Do you like it?” He said, grinning again.

“Er…” I said: “We’ve been on three dates. Isn’t this a little sudden?”

“Not at all.” He said: “You’re the perfect woman for me. You’re submissive and mild mannered and you don’t show too much skin.”

“It’s November!” I yelped.

“Exactly!” He said: “I don’t want you to get cold.”

“What do you mean submissive?!” I growled.

“Well, you don’t shout at me like other girls.” He explained.

“Girls, what do you mean girls? I’m a bloody woman man!” I took a sharp intake of breath: “So this is a proposal then?” I asked.

“Yes.” He winked.

“No.” I said.

“What do you mean no?” He said, looking aghast.

“No.” I said: “A thousand times no.”

“But I bought you a diamond ring.” He wailed.

“So what?” I said: “That won’t make you any less of a jerk. We have only been on three dates and that was enough for me to know that you are definitely are not the man for me.”

“Why did you come out tonight then?” He asked sulkily.

“Curiosity, I guess.” I said shirtily.

“But it’s all planned!” He exclaimed: “I’ve invited everyone, even the cousins that I hate from Egypt.”

“Well, you can bloody well, un-plan it!” I exclaimed: “Where the hell do you get off? You have to wait for an answer before you go ahead and bloody plan a wedding!”

“But you don’t have any other offers.” He said sulkily.

“SO!” I screeched: “That doesn’t mean I’m going to say yes to any God damn man that asks me. Especially not you.”

“I’ve even told my mother…” He whined.

“Well, you can tell her no as well then.” I growled: “I’m saying no, plain and simple, no.”

And that is how I didn’t marry the richest man in Europe. I didn’t know he was the richest man in Europe at the time. At the time I just knew that he was a jerk and that nothing, not even a diamond encrusted ring, could tempt me to stay with this man for the rest of my life.

And so here I am, a penniless writer. Telling you the story of how I nearly married into abundant riches.

I have no regrets. I’m still single, but at least I am not attached to a man that just presumes a woman will marry him because he proffers her a ring when she is short on offers.

I still to this day dream of love, not money.