Weekly World News, Entertainment Weekly, People, National Enquirer have all been posing the question, "Conrad and Julia, the next Nick and Jessica?  The next Sonny and Cher, the next Samson and Delilah, the next Proctor and Gamble?"  To answer this question we will go back to Sunday.

 

Sunday lunchtime.  11:30 AM.

 

So I had like this really expensive item in my pocket.  (That's called foreshadowing).

 

Conrad slyly suggests going out to eat.  "Hey, Julia.  Let's go out to eat someplace nice for no reason at all."  Julia picked Macaroni Grill, but we get there and it's hasn't opened to the public yet.  I'm not sure why someone would grill macaroni.  I always thought you were supposed to boil it. 

 

So then she picks Cracker Barrel.  And I'm like, "Uh, no."  Why anyone would keep crackers in a barrel is beyond me.  I'm as open-minded as the next guy, but like who has enough crackers to justify keeping them in a barrel?  Maybe a cracker bowl.  But a cracker barrel?  That's a lot of crackers.  I don't know what's up with these restaurant names. 

 

She then suggests Texas Roadhouse.  Finally a name that kind of makes sense, except that we're in central Pennsylvania.  And the closest thing we have to Texas here is, well Texas, and that's like really far.

 

So I choose the only restaurant name that makes sense, Olive Garden.  Now, I myself have never seen a garden of olives, but I have to believe that there exists a garden where olives are grown. 

 

Now Olive Garden does their best to make the inside décor look like the outside.  I'm sorry, there's no fooling me here – I went to college.  There's roof over me and walls around me, therefore, I'm inside.  I'm too slick to fall for their trickery. 

 

So we sit down and talk about how much we hate kids on Decapolis.  Just kidding.  We were just talking about how much we hate kids in general.  No, okay, we were talking about crap that would bore you to tears if I wrote about it. 

 

So with our order we get soup or salad.  Now the first time I went to Olive Garden I thought the waitress said "Would you like 'Super Salad'?" instead of "soup or salad" And I was like "Yeah."  Then she was like, "Soup or salad," (again sounding like Super Salad to me).  And I'm like, "Lady, I said yes already."  "But would you like soup OR salad?"  After about 45 minutes of this, I just said, can I just have some grilled macaronis?"

 

Okay, since that time, I've been down with the Olive Garden lingo, so I immediately ask for soup because I have come to understand that salad contains vegetables, and that vegetables are good for you, and that anything good for you tastes like crap.  And I don't have to worry about calories or fat intake since I have the metabolism of a nervous hamster. Either that or I have a tapeworm. 

 

After bread, a super salad for her, and soup for me, we're only able to eat like two bites of our meal.  And I'm like we should get dessert, which I like never do, because paying four dollars for a 2x2 inch piece of cake is against my principles.  And she knows that, but I'm all like, "Yeah, we've been good about not eating out, I'll uncharacteristically get this dessert but not because I'm up to something," and ordered the tiramisu.   (Tiramisu, by they way, is a dessert that tastes nothing like bacon, but is right up there next to it in terms of how happy it makes me feel.)

 

So I get up like I'm going to blow my nose (which I actually had to do earlier) and chase down the waitress and ask her to bring out a certain something with the dessert.   And she's like all giddy. 

 

So I get back to the table and am like, "Man, I sure had to blow my nose.  That's all I did too.  I didn't talk to anybody, or do anything secretive." 

 

Meanwhile (I learned this of this part later) the waitress and the other waitresses are huddled around looking at that item I gave her, and are all suggesting how it should be brought out.  One waitress saw it and said, "If that girl doesn't say yes, I will."  So they decided to have it brought out on a plate like the tiramisu with a strawberry and whip cream.

 

So the waiters/waitresses all come over and start singing some song.  And Julia is like thinking, "Oh crap, they're coming over to our table, it's someone's birthday and they got the tables screwed up." 

 

But then she sees one of the plates. 

 

And on that plate is an open ring box with the greatest ring to have ever walked the earth. 

 

I took the ring box and got on one knee (my good one) and she took it before I even said anything.  She was like all crying and stuff.  So we hugged and kissed and whatever.  Then I said to everyone watching, "She REALLY likes tiramisu."  Everyone laughed and thought I was the best person ever.  They started telling each other that they wish they were more like me, and less like themselves.  Julia continued staring at the ring.  People around us congratulated us.  It was nice.  And that was all before I even got to the tiramisu. 

 

So Julia and I are engaged.  I'm engaged to my best friend.  Here's a picture of the happy couple. 

 

You can tell that to the press and the paparazzi, but just don't tell your friends with all the crackers – they're weird.