On Tuesday, Margaret told me she liked the little oranges with the seeds better that the ones I bought. I hated her for that. That was the last straw. After years of being with this woman, she ruined what could’ve been the best day of my life or the worst time of my life.

I am Blake Chesterfield. I’m an average Joe trying to make a name for myself in this great city of Shellville. Four years ago, I met the love of my life, Margaret Maxey. Oh how she made my heart beat so! I can remember the first time we met, as if it was yesterday.

It was the fall of 2009 and our alma mater, The University of Texas at Austin, hosted a dance and we students were all invited into join in on the fun. The problem for me was that I didn’t have a date. I know being in the Robotics club and the Science club doesn't make you the type of guy in which girls would begin to migrate over to you, but I was a decent guy. At the dance, I of course didn't want to be a loner at home playing Xbox, so I went to the dance. It was there where I met this girl with beautiful long blond hair so majestic it was like I was looking at princess from Disney Channel. Her name was Margaret Maxey. Anyways, I asked her if I can have a dance with her and to my surprise she agreed. We were doing the Dougie and all those dances when I notice something from the beginning about Margaret- she is very picky. At the dance she was pointing out the little tidbits of my suit. “What brand of shoes are those?” she said. “Excuse me?” I said shocked at how picky Margaret was. “Its just that it seems like you need to changed everything about you because you need to be cool like me” she said. I thought she was kidding but as we got closer to the point of boyfriend and girlfriend, I knew this was serious, but at the same time I loved her.

It was four years later that I realize that I was ready to make a commitment to Margaret; despite the fact that she was picky. I needed to have a way of making sure that my proposal to Margaret was the best way of getting my point across. I spent hours making calls to the nearest and fancy eatery. That was when I reserved a dinner for two at my favorite restaurant- Ze Palace. “Yes I would like to reserve a table for two.” Ze Palace was the fanciest eatery in Shellville. I got into my car with anticipation and drove off to the restaurant with fear and excitement. The same feeling when you get your SAT scores. While I was driving I was already imagining how tonight would go. We would have dinner and dancing. I knew when our eyes connect under the magnificent array of the stars, it would be perfect. Or so I thought.

The whole restaurant was taking up by the lovely aroma of pizza and other eatery. I was admiring the smell until I heard my “lovely” Margaret talk. “I just don’t like these oranges!” Margaret exclaimed. Here she goes again I thought at the bellowing sound of her voice. Margaret has always been the picky type since our first dance in 2009. “You know what, you have always been a pain since I’ve met you but-” I was astonished at how quiet the restaurant was. It was almost like we were at a funeral. But that wasn’t equal to the amount of shock that I experienced when the waiter walked in.

There he was- the waiter. A broad, shouldered chap came swiftly to where me and Margaret were sitting. “Bon appetite!” the waiter said as he dropped our plates as smoothly as the drop of a pin. I thanked the waiter. I was ready to submerge myself into my meal when something came over me. It wasn’t a sore throat or a cough, but rather fear. When I made my reservation at Ze Palace, I issued a favor for the waiter. I asked him to put the beautiful diamond ring into the pizza that we ordered. I had to get the pizza away from Margaret because it came to my awareness that I wasn’t ready for this commitment. There was only one way to deal with this. I leaped from my chair and to the table like I had springs on my feet. I belly flopped on the table covering myself with cheese and pepperoni.

“Blake what in the world is going on?” Margaret yelled. Once again the restaurant was at serenity like if we were in a moment of stillness. I tried to play my belly flopping off but it was no use because she found the ring. “Oh Blake is this what I think this means?” she said. The whole room went into wonder and started chanting Blake over and over. At this point in time, I didn’t know what to do. I was at a crossroads. Should I tell her that I’ve rethought my decision on our marriage, or should I not humiliate myself and lie? I was at a loss for words. To avoid the conversation, I ran out of the restaurant like Usain Bolt and darted out into my car and drove home. When I got home, I was at a state of relief but of sadness because I couldn’t picture how Margaret would feel.

Since that dreaded day, I haven’t heard from Margaret. I guess she was just too humiliated to show her face around town. There was one good thing that came from that experience. I didn’t have to pay the bill.