Topic 20: "Open Topic"
Mar. 25th, 2012 03:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
java_fiendOnce again, here is my entry for this week laid upon the altar of the mighty Idol gods. As always, may they be kind and generous...
A warm night. Soft music playing. Champagne and chocolate. A big, bright full moon in the sky and a gentle cruise on calm waters in an Italian gondola.
Sounds like a recipe for some serious amore, no?
Having spent a fair amount of time rowing a gondola through the canals of Naples, I’ve got a collection of romantic tales larger than War and Peace. I’ve been witness to romantic birthday celebrations, wedding anniversaries, anniversaries of a first date, a first kiss and in one instance, the anniversary of the first time they’d had sex… on a gondola. Hell, I even got to participate in a few wedding ceremonies aboard our fleet. Around Long Beach, the gondolas are synonymous with romance in all of its various forms and flavors.
As great and sweet as those things are though, in terms of sheer romance, nothing can top the marriage proposal. In my tenure on the water, I saw my fair share of them and like every other gondolier, I have my favorite proposal stories. Some were elaborate spectacles and some were simple and sweet. We had a ton of proposals aboard the gondolas and each one was special and unique in its own way. Personally, I always felt that there was just something kind of cool about being involved, even if only tangentially, in such a momentous event in a couple’s life.
Of the hundreds and perhaps even thousands of proposal stories through the years, there is one that has become absolutely legendary around the gondolas. It’s been told, re-told and laughed about hysterically so many times that I’m sure half of Long Beach, if not more, knows the story. It became the ultimate cautionary tale of romance gone seriously awry.
Our story starts with the very nervous groom-to-be, we’ll call him Captain Twitchy, showing up one day to make a reservation… well over a month in advance. There’s nothing wrong with planning and being prepared but this guy spent weeks scouting out the boats, the route, tide charts as well as the lunar schedule. And every step of the way, he would consult with us to make sure he scheduled the absolutely, 100%-guaranteed optimal time slot there was to be had. As if we could control the moon, weather and tides or something. We were good but not that good.
While out on our cruises, we’d often see him stalking our gondolas from the sidewalks along the canal route, just silently studying and observing us to see a live cruise in action, I suppose. It got to be a little creepy actually.
With the days ticking down to the BIG NIGHT, he showed up to our office even more than he had before just to make sure that things were still okay and that… aliens hadn’t abducted our entire gondoliering staff or that our fleet hadn’t been hit by Japanese kamikazes and sunk maybe? All I know is that this dude was hanging around the gondos more than I was. He was around so much that we considered making him an honorary gondolier and making him work our shifts.
The night finally arrived and he showed up promptly fifteen minutes before cruise time. It was a mild night with a very soft, almost warmish breeze blowing in. We’d made sure to book him on our nicest gondola with the best singer we had at the time, the Kiwi. There was a big, bright full moon in the sky and the high tide was peaking. Everything was absolutely perfect. But this dude was so jittery and nervous that he looked like he’d just downed an entire case of Red Bull and snorted 10 pounds of cocaine in the car before strolling up the dock. Incredibly enough, his girlfriend… or soon-to-hopefully-be-fiancee… didn’t seem to notice that he was sweating, stammering and falling all over himself.
The Kiwi got their champagne and basket on board, got them loaded up and situated and had them out on the water at the appointed time. We all breathed a sigh of relief that they were underway and Operation Pop the Question had commenced because that meant that when their cruise was over and they’d returned to the dock, we’d finally have the guy out of our hair. Until their anniversary of course.
Things were business as usual and our bookings ran like clockwork. We staggered our appointment times so that some of us ran on the hour and some ran on the half-hour. Those of us running on the hour had docked, offloaded our passengers and were relaxing in the office before our next cruises by the time the Kiwi got back with Captain Twitchy and his soon-to-be-blushing-bride. I guess we all just sort of figured that he’d run them over on time a bit to give them a little something extra special. (a little inside baseball here… because tips were a major source of income for us, we usually tried to give people a little something extra special with the hope that they’d return the favor, dontchaknow.)
Well, we watched the newly-engaged couple hurrying up the dock once they’d gotten back. Captain Twitchy rushed by the office, a murderous scowl on his face and his soon-to-be-blushing-bride hot on his heels absolutely sobbing and saying “I’m sorry” over and over again. We all looked at one another, shocked to be witnessing gondo history… a proposal rejection??? It had never happened before! Immediately, the cash came out and we started taking bets with one another as to the reasoning for the crash and burn. The Kiwi strolled in a few minutes later looking a little stunned and nobody said a word. Though we really didn’t have to because he knew we wanted the dirt.
It turns out that in all of his obsessive proposal planning, Captain Twitchy overlooked one small but absolutely monumental detail. It seems that he forgot to properly… size the ring. DOH! According to the Kiwi, Captain Twitchy got down on his knee, popped the question and slipped the ring on the finger of his newly-minted fiancée. She, being entirely excited and squee’ing up a storm of course, threw her arms up to give him a hug… at which point, the improperly sized ring came flying off of her finger, bounced off of the side of the boat and plummeted straight down into the depths of the Naples canals.
Yeah, that would sort of explain the rather hasty departure of the couple as well as their moods. Ummmm… Whoops. Needless to say, nobody won the office jackpot because nobody saw that coming.
The following day, Captain Twitchy showed up at the dock again with a scuba diver he’d hired to try and find the lost ring. He told us that it had cost him nearly 20 grand and he hadn’t yet insured it so he was obviously desperate to get it back. We felt terrible for the guy and didn’t want to tell him that with the mud and muck at the bottom of the canals not to mention the fact that the tide had come in and out by that point, he had a better chance of finding a sane and rational person at a Tea Party rally than he did of finding that ring. But we wanted to help him if we could so we fired up the motor boat we had for emergencies and took him out to the spot where the ring was last seen and let the diver do his thing.
And sure enough, just like we all knew he would, the diver came back empty-handed. The ring was nowhere to be found. Captain Twitchy was understandably devastated. I mean, who wouldn’t be after throwing down twenty grand on a ring and having it end up at the bottom of a canal?
Don’t fret though. The story which is totally sad (but somewhat hilarious) does have a happy ending after all. Captain Twitchy and his girlfriend/fiancée still got married, albeit with a less expensive and properly sized ring that was probably insured out the wazoo. And they did indeed come back to celebrate their anniversary with us and looked to be very much in love still.
That’s some serious amore, no?
This has been my entry for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
therealljidol Season 8, Topic 20: The dreaded "Open Topic." Thanks so much for stopping by to give me a read as well as all of your support all these weeks. It really means a lot to me guy, so thank you! Don't forget to swing on by the polls when (and if) they open to read some other really fantastic entries and spread a little voting love around! Thank you!
A warm night. Soft music playing. Champagne and chocolate. A big, bright full moon in the sky and a gentle cruise on calm waters in an Italian gondola.
Sounds like a recipe for some serious amore, no?
Having spent a fair amount of time rowing a gondola through the canals of Naples, I’ve got a collection of romantic tales larger than War and Peace. I’ve been witness to romantic birthday celebrations, wedding anniversaries, anniversaries of a first date, a first kiss and in one instance, the anniversary of the first time they’d had sex… on a gondola. Hell, I even got to participate in a few wedding ceremonies aboard our fleet. Around Long Beach, the gondolas are synonymous with romance in all of its various forms and flavors.
As great and sweet as those things are though, in terms of sheer romance, nothing can top the marriage proposal. In my tenure on the water, I saw my fair share of them and like every other gondolier, I have my favorite proposal stories. Some were elaborate spectacles and some were simple and sweet. We had a ton of proposals aboard the gondolas and each one was special and unique in its own way. Personally, I always felt that there was just something kind of cool about being involved, even if only tangentially, in such a momentous event in a couple’s life.
Of the hundreds and perhaps even thousands of proposal stories through the years, there is one that has become absolutely legendary around the gondolas. It’s been told, re-told and laughed about hysterically so many times that I’m sure half of Long Beach, if not more, knows the story. It became the ultimate cautionary tale of romance gone seriously awry.
Our story starts with the very nervous groom-to-be, we’ll call him Captain Twitchy, showing up one day to make a reservation… well over a month in advance. There’s nothing wrong with planning and being prepared but this guy spent weeks scouting out the boats, the route, tide charts as well as the lunar schedule. And every step of the way, he would consult with us to make sure he scheduled the absolutely, 100%-guaranteed optimal time slot there was to be had. As if we could control the moon, weather and tides or something. We were good but not that good.
While out on our cruises, we’d often see him stalking our gondolas from the sidewalks along the canal route, just silently studying and observing us to see a live cruise in action, I suppose. It got to be a little creepy actually.
With the days ticking down to the BIG NIGHT, he showed up to our office even more than he had before just to make sure that things were still okay and that… aliens hadn’t abducted our entire gondoliering staff or that our fleet hadn’t been hit by Japanese kamikazes and sunk maybe? All I know is that this dude was hanging around the gondos more than I was. He was around so much that we considered making him an honorary gondolier and making him work our shifts.
The night finally arrived and he showed up promptly fifteen minutes before cruise time. It was a mild night with a very soft, almost warmish breeze blowing in. We’d made sure to book him on our nicest gondola with the best singer we had at the time, the Kiwi. There was a big, bright full moon in the sky and the high tide was peaking. Everything was absolutely perfect. But this dude was so jittery and nervous that he looked like he’d just downed an entire case of Red Bull and snorted 10 pounds of cocaine in the car before strolling up the dock. Incredibly enough, his girlfriend… or soon-to-hopefully-be-fiancee… didn’t seem to notice that he was sweating, stammering and falling all over himself.
The Kiwi got their champagne and basket on board, got them loaded up and situated and had them out on the water at the appointed time. We all breathed a sigh of relief that they were underway and Operation Pop the Question had commenced because that meant that when their cruise was over and they’d returned to the dock, we’d finally have the guy out of our hair. Until their anniversary of course.
Things were business as usual and our bookings ran like clockwork. We staggered our appointment times so that some of us ran on the hour and some ran on the half-hour. Those of us running on the hour had docked, offloaded our passengers and were relaxing in the office before our next cruises by the time the Kiwi got back with Captain Twitchy and his soon-to-be-blushing-bride. I guess we all just sort of figured that he’d run them over on time a bit to give them a little something extra special. (a little inside baseball here… because tips were a major source of income for us, we usually tried to give people a little something extra special with the hope that they’d return the favor, dontchaknow.)
Well, we watched the newly-engaged couple hurrying up the dock once they’d gotten back. Captain Twitchy rushed by the office, a murderous scowl on his face and his soon-to-be-blushing-bride hot on his heels absolutely sobbing and saying “I’m sorry” over and over again. We all looked at one another, shocked to be witnessing gondo history… a proposal rejection??? It had never happened before! Immediately, the cash came out and we started taking bets with one another as to the reasoning for the crash and burn. The Kiwi strolled in a few minutes later looking a little stunned and nobody said a word. Though we really didn’t have to because he knew we wanted the dirt.
It turns out that in all of his obsessive proposal planning, Captain Twitchy overlooked one small but absolutely monumental detail. It seems that he forgot to properly… size the ring. DOH! According to the Kiwi, Captain Twitchy got down on his knee, popped the question and slipped the ring on the finger of his newly-minted fiancée. She, being entirely excited and squee’ing up a storm of course, threw her arms up to give him a hug… at which point, the improperly sized ring came flying off of her finger, bounced off of the side of the boat and plummeted straight down into the depths of the Naples canals.
Yeah, that would sort of explain the rather hasty departure of the couple as well as their moods. Ummmm… Whoops. Needless to say, nobody won the office jackpot because nobody saw that coming.
The following day, Captain Twitchy showed up at the dock again with a scuba diver he’d hired to try and find the lost ring. He told us that it had cost him nearly 20 grand and he hadn’t yet insured it so he was obviously desperate to get it back. We felt terrible for the guy and didn’t want to tell him that with the mud and muck at the bottom of the canals not to mention the fact that the tide had come in and out by that point, he had a better chance of finding a sane and rational person at a Tea Party rally than he did of finding that ring. But we wanted to help him if we could so we fired up the motor boat we had for emergencies and took him out to the spot where the ring was last seen and let the diver do his thing.
And sure enough, just like we all knew he would, the diver came back empty-handed. The ring was nowhere to be found. Captain Twitchy was understandably devastated. I mean, who wouldn’t be after throwing down twenty grand on a ring and having it end up at the bottom of a canal?
Don’t fret though. The story which is totally sad (but somewhat hilarious) does have a happy ending after all. Captain Twitchy and his girlfriend/fiancée still got married, albeit with a less expensive and properly sized ring that was probably insured out the wazoo. And they did indeed come back to celebrate their anniversary with us and looked to be very much in love still.
That’s some serious amore, no?
This has been my entry for
therealljidol Season 8, Topic 20: The dreaded "Open Topic." Thanks so much for stopping by to give me a read as well as all of your support all these weeks. It really means a lot to me guy, so thank you! Don't forget to swing on by the polls when (and if) they open to read some other really fantastic entries and spread a little voting love around! Thank you!
