So, Rian and I had our three year anniversary yesterday.
I got home from work bursting with excitement.
"Are you taking me someplace special?," I asked, with a wink. He stared at me blankly. I froze. "You know it's our anniversary, right?" I continued. Recognition in his eyes lit up.
"Oh yeah," he said. "I guess we could go out to dinner."
He guesses?! He GUESSES?!
Needless to say, I was scowling when we got in the car.
"Can I pick the place?" he asked, hopefully. I shrugged. It better be good, I thought to myself.
We started heading downtown and I perked up. Maybe he was taking me somewhere fancy!
"I'm really in the mood for pizza," he said, naming a generic sports bar he knows I can't stand.
My blood turned to ice.
"What?" I said, stonily.
"I just really want pizza," he said, looking with concern at my stank face.
I hastily listed our favorite Indian, Ethiopian, and Middle-Eastern restaurants that were nearby. He shook his head on all of them. He wasn't in the mood.
"Fine, let's go get your damn pizza," I retorted, holding back tears.
He started going the wrong way until we were going in circles. I closed my eyes and tried not to scream. He knew perfectly well his fucking sports bar was left, not right.
We ended up pulling in front of the fanciest French restaurant in town, a place I had always longed to go to but never had the courage to ask, because of the crazy expensive prices.
"We can go here if you like," he said, shrugging.
I felt bad.
"No, let's just go get pizza," I said. "It's getting late and this place is too expensive. Plus, you need reservations. You can't just pop in. It's not McDonald's."
But he insisted on checking out the menu.
As soon as we got inside, the waiter rushed over to us.
"You must be Rian," he said, his eyes lighting up at my boyfriend. "Your table is ready now."
We were escorted to a private table, next to the window, overlooking the downtown skyline.
Rian shot a triumphant look at me. Pizza, indeed! He was pretty pleased with his little scheme. I wanted to smack him (and then kiss him).
Delighted with the surprise, I was in a much better mood. I drank three glasses of pink champagne.
The only hitch was when I tried to order a chicken entree and accidentally ordered kangaroo. I refused to eat it until Rian told me that kangaroos are actually rude and violent animals, unlike the cuddly and friendly ones depicted in Winnie the Pooh. So, feeling better, I gobbled it down. It was pretty good!
After a romantic candle-lit dinner at the French restaurant, Rian took me to my favorite Italian restaurant for dessert.
We were the only ones sitting at the bar, so we got a cozy little spot in front of a giant roaring fireplace.
Rian let me order two glasses of this fancy red dessert wine ($20 a glass, holy hell) and we split tiramisu.
He told this long and winding story about how he went to my favorite gelato place to buy me a gift certificate but they were closed for construction. I tried not to let my face show my disappointment.
"So, I got you this instead," he said, pulling a long jewelry box out of his pocket.
I opened it and gasped. It was a sapphire necklace. I burst into tears.
"I'm sorry, Jenny," said Rian, alarmed. "I'll get you the gelato gift certificate another time. At another place!"
Then, I explained to him that I was not crying because I preferred gelato, but because I was not expecting such a beautiful gift. And then I smothered him with kisses.
It was a beautiful and wonderful and romantic and perfect night.
Sadly, as soon we got home, Rian tried to be romantic with me, but to his disappointment I quickly passed out from all the champagne and wine.
Oh well, I'll make up for it later. ;)
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