Love It: Engagements

Engagements are awesome, especially when they’re fake.

When I went to a drag bar a couple of weeks ago, my friends and I decided to pose as a bachelorette party (it just felt right). As I watched my faux bride-to-be friend up on stage with our drag queen host talking about her “fiancé” Erik and their planned honeymoon to Bermuda, I thought to myself ... I could do this; I could jump up and down squealing about the five carat rock on my finger that he took on three jobs to pay for, giving up a fellowship to Nicaragua in the process; I could share an overly emotional moment in the ladies’ room about how everyone tells us we’re rushing into this but we just know it’s right. I’m 21 years old and I’m not looking to tie the knot any time soon, but after taking the plunge into fake-engaged life, I realized just how rewarding it could be.

For starters, being fake-engaged has made my parents respect me more. How could they not, given all of my future hubby’s enviable traits? Hell yes, my fiancé is a Boston Brahmin. He knows how to cook seared Hudson Valley foie gras with ginger gastrique and always opens doors for me. My mom doesn’t mind that she hasn’t met him yet; with all the hours he spends volunteering at the local synagogue teaching Swahili to children from underserved communities, he barely has time to apply to med school (he scored in the 98th percentile on the MCAT). My dad was a little suspicious until I told him that Ben doesn’t believe in premarital sex. Then he just stopped asking questions.

But the real reason I love being engaged is that it allows me to contribute a little community service of my own. Let’s be real: there are a lot of guys out there who would be tempted to hook up with an engaged woman, the forbidden fruit if you will. And under the influence of five screwdrivers and cold feet, the feeling can be mutual. By posing as an illicit apple, I am able to spare the heartbreak of countless grooms-to-be, intercepting these wayward pairs and coyly sneaking in to sweep the guy off his feet and into my sheets, What can I say, I’m a giver.

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