Every year in the city of Dublin Ohio they hold the Dublin Irish Festival. I myself am descended from Irish people (as well as many other people). The truth is that after a couple thousand years of being conquered and invaded by many different people, Ireland has a wonderful culture. The Dublin Irish Festival celebrates that culture, with drinking, food, music, goods, and services.
I first went to the Dublin Irish Festival back when I was still in high school. I remembered it being a good time and I had always wanted to go back. I never did quite make it back until this year though. I really wanted Missy to go, as she was new to the area, and I knew that she would love it. I asked my bros if they wanted to go as well but only JC was able to make it.
You see, I also had an ulterior motive for wanting to go. I wanted to ask Missy to marry me at the event. We had already talked about getting married, but I wanted to actually officially ask her, ring on the finger and all. Of course that posed a bit of a problem as I hadn’t even found a suitable ring yet.
Engagement rings are an odd thing really. Most women place such a high importance on them without really knowing their origin. You see back almost a hundred years ago women had a tendency to not spread their legs for a man unless she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man. Any wily man knows the answer to this, ask a woman for her hand in marriage, fuck her brains senseless (or for most guys I know pump three times, get off, and fall asleep) and then once the deed is done call off the marriage. Apparently this problem was quite rampant, men getting engaged only to get some sex and then bolting.
So someone devised a method to safe guard against this. Engagement rings. If a man had to plop down money for ring first, he would be far less likely to get engaged just for the sake of sex. Jewelers became rich, and men became sad.
I actually had seen some poor schmucks spend a fortune on some ring and for what? To prove that you love a woman? I can spend my month’s salary on a high priced call girl to bring home to entice Missy into a ménage a trios; does that mean I love her more than if I didn’t spend that money? It is absurdness to the highest degree. If you have to impress a woman by throwing money around, just prepare yourself, because she will never be happy and within a year or two she was will be wearing that high priced ring while some unemployed loser who lives in his dad’s basement fucks her retarded.
So I wanted to put a ring on her finger, but I didn’t want to go for the typical and played out diamond solitaire. It requires so little imagination that if I was a chick and a guy gave me that I would fuck his grandpa just to make him cry. I had a few months back seen a beautiful celtic knotwork ring. It stood out to me because I just hadn’t seen something like it before. It was nothing over the top, it was simple but impressive.
So what better place to find a beautiful celtic knotwork ring, than the Dublin Irish Festival. The only problem was that I had to find a way to buy the ring without Missy seeing me buy it. As we looked over the different booths I seen the perfect ring that I had in mind. I looked at it and made sure that JC seen me looking at it. About five minutes later while Missy was looking at pendants I leaned over to JC and asked him if he remembered the ring I had just looked at while handing him the money for the ring.
There was only one problem, JC had been drinking beers since we arrived to the festival. With the 90 degree heat combined with a dozen Irish stouts JC was a bumbling mess of shitfacedness. It had started about an hour before we had looked at the ring. He started stumbling around a bit. Then came the light headedness and slight drooling. Next came uncontrollable gas and a really foul body odor because he forgot to shower. Then there was the last phase, the blank stare.
So when I asked him, quietly, if he remembered the ring we just looked at he replied in as loud as voice as he could “What ring?” He looked so drunk and confused.
That is not him, that is me, but you get the idea of what a drunk and confused look is. Anyways lucky for me but Missy did not hear him due to a mass of drunken Irish people chattering away. So plan A failed and I had to move on to plan B. I made up what had to be the most unbelievable excuse ever and somehow got JC and I separated from Missy and back over to the booth with the ring. I only had a limited amount of time so I quickly told the old man the one that I wanted.
The old man happened to notice that JC was wearing a Manchester United shirt and started talking on and on about soccer. Here I am about to have a panic attack trying to hurry this shit up and somehow JC went from night of the living dead style drunk zombie to Talker McGee. In the calmest voice I could I told the guy “Hey I am not trying to be a dick but I trying to buy this before my girl gets back.” I thought I had said it as nice as possible.
The old man didn’t though. He snatched my money out of my hand with a scowl and tossed the ring on top the glass counter. I am sorry, I thought you would treat someone spending his hard earned money on your stuff a little bit better but I really didn’t give a fuck. He probably had a small penis and hated life. I sometimes forget that people with small penises are sometimes real bitter and grumpy. I guess I would be too under those circumstances but thankfully I am very happy and cheerful (oh yeah I implied it motherfuckers!). So I shoved the ring box in the pockets of my shorts just in the nick of time (what the fuck does that even mean by the way?).
So we ended up making our way back to the front of the festival. There was a huge stage area and some Irish band was belting out some okay tunes. A bunch of middle aged women stood around drunk and dancing like a packet of retards. Here is a bit of rant, but you know what act your fucking age. If you are some middle aged woman don’t get some drunken delusion that you are some 19 year old girl who guys want to see bouncing around. You look so bizarre and out of place that it is pathetic. Nothing is worse than drunken fools who act immature. These people are starting to become grandparents and for some reason think it is a good thing to go through life being a drunken slut. Oh well embarrass yourself if you want to but don’t look at me nasty when I laugh at your old ugly ass dressed like a damn pre-teen.
Okay, rant notwithstanding, there we stood listening to the band. JC went to get a beer so I decided to make my move. I used sleight of hand to wrest the ring from the ring box and then I did it. I put the ring on her finger while asking her to marry me. Missy of course said yes and kissed me and I am pretty sure I heard some people whistling or cheering us on or something.
