“What do you mean, you’re not sure now?” I asked him, tepidly. It’s been a week since I talked to Raj last on the phone. Between my schedule and his constant trekking over to Japan (apparently the Japanese very much favor the in-person meeting), we barely speak anymore. We’ve begun to lead what I call catastrophically separate lives. And that’s fine. We’ve gone through periods like this before, and while I resent them, I know they are always temporary. That is of course, until they are not anymore.
But being the optimist I am, I don’t think about that.
“I don’t know, it’s just that the guys have been giving me a hard time. They’re saying it’s too soon, and do I even know for sure that this is what I want?” I let my jaw fall open. Is he serious? For the first time in three years, I could almost see the influence of his three goon buddies influencing him in ways I couldn’t. Three years of carefully crafted, pro-female agenda making, washed down with Amstel light. Blech.
“Raj, you’re the one who brought it up. It was your idea. Would you think that way if you weren’t ready?” I asked him, attempting to reason with his man-ness.
“Maybe I’m just programmed to think that way,” he said. Programmed…I know where that one came from. Matt, his perpetually single stockbroker friend, the kind of guy who gets paid six figures to f*ck people over while raping their pension funds, is the one who said it. That kinda guy shouldn’t give love life advice.
“You’re not programmed. That’s a pansy-assed excuse for not facing what is a tense situation. Making a commitment like that is not easy to do. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong, or that you’re not ready.” I wasn’t intending to pamper his stupid man-ness, but that’s just how it came out. Certainly I wouldn’t want to change his mind. But undue influence used on an otherwise intelligent man won’t be had on my watch.
“I don’t know how to ask her,” he said quietly. ‘I would’ve done it months ago…I sort of…asked the guys for help on it.”
I swallowed hard. This was too much. I knew why now he was feeling so insecure. It wasn’t his buddies, but his own ego. He was afraid to ask…of what exactly, I don’t know.
“If you want advice on how to be a corporate asshole, or how to swing your golf club better, or pick up super models, then ask your stupid friends. You come to me for this sh*t, you understand me?” I said, laughing. See, I know him. I know I can bring him back up where he belongs.
“They’re not all bad,” he said, coming to their defense.
“Let’s not get me started on them, Ok? I’ve never liked them, you’re not going to convince me that they aren’t just puddles of grey matter in $1000 suits,” I said. He laughed, a good old Raj laugh, the kind where I can almost picture him putting his feet up on his desk, and people turning around in their cubicles outside his office to appreciate it.
I went on to tell him that how he asked her will never be as important as the fact that he asks. She won’t say no just because it isn’t perfect, his idea of it or hers. I told him to ask himself, ‘what is she like?’ Because who she is will determine what she remembers best about the moment he asks. And that is really the test if you ask me, the test to see if you should ask a woman to marry you or not.
Do you know what she will remember best about the way you asked? Because truth be told, one probably shouldn’t ask someone they can’t answer these questions about. It’s not about being right, because who knows really what their girlfriend would remember later, or if that memory will change or fade with time?
It’s about feeling as if you know her well enough to guess. It’s about confidence and security. Relationships are about confidence and security.
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