I abhor marriage proposals. If I’m ever drunk enough to pop the question, I’d do so knowing that unless I orchestrate a proposal on par with the Cirque du Soleil, the gesture’s likely to be eclipsed by a glut of attention seekers determined to mark their intimate moment with a zany viral video attempt.
Down on one knee and ‘Will you marry me?’ simply doesn’t cut it anymore. That question directed at the YouTube-savvy female is likely to illicit a hopeful glance round, followed by ‘so…where the hell is the Leonard Bernstein number, Scott? You humdrum wastrel. The answer’s no.’
On one hand I’ve got to give it to the guys. What pebbly-hearted harpy could refuse, faced with a congregation of sweaty friends and family exhausted having spent months learning the routine from Thriller, or Step Up 5: Dance Dance Darfur? Any man that goes through the rigmarole of pulling off that kind of feat deserves a pity yes at least, lest a snub be met with a family-based gang beating to the tune of ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’. On the other hand I question the sexual orientation of a man that not only puts that much thought into a proposal, but opts for a Bruno Mars track to accompany it.
Poor Amy. She never stood a chance. Live reaction shot? There’s no way anyone could make it through a private dance number with an ambivalent look on his or her face. It’s Happy Birthday syndrome: no matter how disastrously out of tune and dreary it is, you have to grin and bear it. Isaac Lamb knew what he was doing: Amy was going viral. And what happens now? Isaac’s set an impossibly high benchmark unless the wedding involves the pair being blasted round the Large Hadron Collider into eternity.
Online marriage proposals are over share fetishism. How long before we start seeing viral divorce videos with titles such as ‘Craig, I simply don’t love you anymore’ or ‘You’re skint. I’m off’ or ‘I’m fucking your best friend. Surprise!’? I can give that a thumbs up.