So I booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton in Philadelphia, figuring to take advantage of the hot chocolate tasting offered in the lobby. Going for a mug of cocoa has long been a great date for us every winter, and I thought it would make a great scene for a proposal. As the weekend draws near, I suddenly learn that the lobby is undergoing renovations and the hot chocolate won’t be offered. Panicking because it was too late to cancel the reservation, I call over to the spa to book my fiancé-to-be a massage. The day arrives – cold a blustery. My girlfriend is complaining about how far we have to walk in the cold when we walk into the lobby and she realizes there will be no hot chocolate. She gets pissed and starts asking why we walked all the way there in the cold. I figure I can save the day and tell her about the massage, but boy was I wrong. She turns livid and starts yelling at me in the lobby about how we couldn’t afford that and I shouldn’t have booked it. I tell her to calm down and go enjoy the massage, as it’s already paid for. As she gets the massage, I check in and visit the suite. A king bed, city views, a vase of roses, champagne on ice, and tuxedo-wearing chocolate covered strawberries are waiting – perfect. I turn on the TV and catch part of a Sean Connery movie to relax, and then make my way to the spa. I hear the masseuse telling her that she’ll be right back with a hot towel as she leaves the room winking at me. There my girlfriend was – buck naked on the massage table, head in the little ring, and oblivious to the world around her. I snuck into the room and knelt next to her. I whispered in her ear how much I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She sat up (still naked) crying and laughing. She somehow choked out a “Yes!â€
Â
- Sean B., Nashua, New Hampshire