The Proposal

“Cheers!”

“Yes, cheers.”

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Kelsey. It’s really great to meet you. How’s your drink?”

“Mmmm. Delish. Very…effervescent.”

“Ooh, great word choice—haha. So…on your profile it said…you’re an actress?”

“Yeah—well…trying to be. The usual story, it’s been hard to get a steady gig, so I pick up shifts bartending and waitressing here and there. But, yup that’s the goal!”

“Very cool. Are you thinking you want to do TV, film, theater…?”

“Uh, well, honestly anything. I’ve been auditioning a lot for small TV roles. Trying for a few pilots. TV can be good because you might get a regular, long-term gig if the show gets picked up and all that. I have done some local theater of course, which is weird, but can be really fun.”

“Of course. How about reality TV?”

“Pshh, well—ha—I did get approached for a dating show once, but I don’t know, I don’t think that’s for me, really. Especially if I want to get something more serious down the road. Though I do love to watch reality TV of course, so….yeah. What? Is something on my face?”

“Interesting…”

“...what?”

“I have a proposal for you.”

“Oh yah? What’s that?” 

“I think I might have an acting opportunity for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, you’d be perfect for the role.”

“Oh, really? Is that right? Ok, let me guess Josh. It’s Josh right? These first dates all seem to blend together. I’m guessing you’re in the ‘biz.’ Ya know, I’m not doing porn—”

“Nonono…dear god no. Ha! Nothing like that. Although I would say it is a bit unconventional.”

“...jesus-christ-here-we-fucking-go…is it feet pics? It’s feet pics isn’t it.”

“No, no.”

“Everytime I say I’m an actress, guys’ ears always perk up. ‘Oh, I’m super connected, I know this director, I know Leonardo DiCaprio.’ One time a guy asked if he could film me farting on a cake. A birthday cake. Are you about to ask me to fart on a cake Josh?”

“What? No, no, listen, Kelsey, it’s different.”

“Ugh, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. It was very nice to meet you Josh, but I better be going—best of luck out there!”

“No, wait! Please stay. Listen…hear me out. I’m not a weirdo Hollywood sleaze or anything. I’m really not.”

“...fine. I’m giving you until I finish this drink to give me your spiel, then I’m leaving.”

“That’s fine! So…all I would need you to do is pretend to be my fiance for, like, a few months, help plan a lavish wedding—”

“…wait what?”

“…that my parents—who are very wealthy—would pay for.”

“…ok…”

“…and when we get to the altar…we say ‘GOTCHA!’ Sham wedding. We both go our separate ways. That’s it.”

“...huh.”

“So…?”

“I’m thinking…”

“Listen, you will be generously compensated…and obviously no sex stuff whatsoever. Just visiting my family here and there. Maybe a peck or two in front of them, give them a little show…and like I said they’ll pay for everything, the dress, the venue, the catering, the wedding band…”

“...wedding band? Ew.”

“Or DJ! Whatever the bride wants. Think of it as a trial run for your real dream wedding. Or like, a fantasy wedding where there are no parameters. No holds barred. No budget limit. So?”

“You do know it takes more than a few months to plan a wedding, especially a lavish one.”

“We’ll make it work. I got people.”

“Oh wow, he’s got people.”

“I’m serious! So?”

“....”

“Eh?”

“…how much are we talking?”

“Let’s just say I’ll make sure you won’t have to work any bartending shifts for a long time.”

“Ugh, ok I need another drink. Hi, yes, excuse me? Sorry, hi. I’ll have another negroni sbagliato please? Whenever you get a chance? Oh, and can you make it stronger somehow? Thank you. Ok, so anyway…I have so many questions, but my main one is…why go through all the work to plan a wedding…is this like a reality prank show or…experimental theater…?”

“No. It’s a prank.”

“A prank.”

“An elaborate ruse to waste my family’s money and humiliate them. They’ll never see it coming. And they’ll never get their deposit back.”

“HA. Wow. That’s a new one. Huh. Right. Sure. but…..why?”

“Because I hate them. With a fiery passion. Plain and simple.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call anything about this simple. Why do you hate them so much?”

“Ask my therapist…HA! Just kidding, I don't have a therapist at the moment…”

“Ya don’t say…”

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing Josh. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ya know, I feel like this first date is going really well. The fact that you’re still entertaining this—”

“So what kind of money we talkin’...old money? Trust fund vibes? Great-great-grandaddy was an oil baron? Or new money? Tech? Media? Investing or whatever the fuck? OH! I got it: pharmaceuticals. Don’t tell me you are part of the Sackler family. And you’re, like, out of the will unless you get married…wait. Wait!”

“What?”

“I get it. Are you gay? And they are super homophobic? So this is your way of getting back at them? Staging the most heightened, over-the-top, ostentatious heteronormative display in front of all their friends and family? Now that. That could be good.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Hmm, alright. Would’ve almost made this less weird. Oh my god, thank you. This drink looks delicious. Honestly, just keep them coming, this will be gone in a second. Josh, you want another round?”

“Sure, I’ll actually switch to an extra dry martini. Three olives please. Thank you. Ahem. Ok back to the task at hand.”

“Ya know JOSH…”

“Why do you keep saying my name like that?”

“Because I don’t know who the hell you are. You probably aren’t who you said you were on your profile. And also…I’m a little drunk.”

“So you are having fun, KELSEY.”

“Well this sure will be a first date I’ll never forget.”

“We can tell our grandkids all about it.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

“They won’t have a penny to their name though.”

“Ha! Good one. So, ok…this proposal of yours…it’s literally a proposal. You're proposing to me on our first date.”

“That’s right. So, whaddaya say Kelsey? Will you marry me?”