When I was still hunting for information about the most romantic place to propose in Whistler, I went all old-school and phoned someone. In this case, the Blackcomb customer service line. Hey, they said call about anything, so I did.
Here’s how the conversation went. Or at least how I remember it.
CSR (Customer Service Representative): ‘sup, man?
Me: (never quite sure what to say to ‘sup’) “Ah, nothing, I guess. I mean, the reason I’m calling is that I’m going to be proposing-“
“That’s like, good, right?”
“Yup. That’s good. Proposing is good.”
“Oh, man, that’s intense.”
“Yeah. Sure. Like. Yeah. Sure.”
Me: “Great. So I wanted to get a recommendation for a nice romantic place to propose and I’d heard the peak-to-peak gondola might be a good choice.”
“Sure, man, that’s cool.”
“Cool. Right. But is there, like, a romantic restaurant on the top of the mountain?”
“No, man, not really. Like there’s a café and the food’s good and stuff, but it’s not, you know, all romantic and sh*t.”
“Any other places you’d recommend?”
“Me, man? No, no idea, hold on a moment.”
Then he put me on hold.
For a long time,
I had two visions in my head. One, he rushed out to talk to the girls in the office and ask them where THEY thought the most romantic place would be. The other had him rushing out get toke up a bit as we were getting intense here, bro, intense.
I think it was the latter, for he came back about 5 min later, which in telephone time, is 100 years.
CSR: “So, yeah, man, what were we talking about?”
“Right. Hold on.”
And I did.
He came back 5 min later. “So, no suggestions, man, sorry. Lots of good restaurants and stuff in the Upper and Lower Village.”
“Did you ask anyone?”
I desperately wanted to ask him what he HAD done when he put me on hold, but he seemed like the kind of guy who’d tell me he was downloading scoobie porn and whacking off to it.
So, I said, “Ok, thanks.” And hung up.
The internet, however, proved to be a lot more helpful. It was there that I found the helicopter proposal ride.
What Do You Do After?
See, the thing is, I never planned that out. But what the hell do you do? Is there a book I should have read?
So after lots of jumping up and down, lots of happy squeals, the odd hug, some kisses, we marched back into the helicopter and flew back down to earth. Even the helicopter pilot seemed to have melted a bit. He’d gone from “yeah, marriage, your life will never be the same,” to telling us sweet stories about his wife.
But I was still stumped what to do.
What’s the next romantic gesture?
Well, I have no idea. So here’s what happened. We went back to the hotel, had a celebrator drink in the pub, then I took a nap.
Yes. A nap.
Not super romantic, I’ll give you that, but I’d not slept for about 3 days worrying about all that could go wrong, so I was simply and utterly exhausted.
The Prettiest-girl-in-the-world, however, phoned her mom, her dad, her great baba, the boys, then texted about 300 people and posted pictures on facebook. I think she also showed her ring to our waiter, the nice couple in the elevator and a busload of Asian tourists, who all took pictures.
She, unlike me, was so NOT exhausted. She was so excited and so happy.
After I woke up, we went to Hy’s Steakhouse. Not a cheap place. But it’s the kind of place where there’s linen napkins, the silverware is actually polished and none of the 6 waiters who waited on us told me I had sleep wrinkles all over my face.
Full, a little drunk, we wandered hand-in-hand through the Village. It’s so beautiful at night, made even more beautiful by the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world agreeing to be my wife. The ring even seemed to sparkle more brightly on her hand.
We decided not to talk about the wedding. At least just yet.
But judging by all the facebook ‘likes’ and all the congratulatory texts, it’s going to have to be a big one.
We may sell tickets to the event.
Thanks to everyone who sent such lovely and kind comments (either here or on facebook.) Thanks for sharing the event with us.
Back to real life adventures tomorrow.
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