Michael padded his hands over his black marino suit mumbleing to himself. His hands slid over the breast pocket,"phone" dipped into the inside pocket, "keys", checked to make sure the proper button was fastened. "Okay okay okay," his hand continued to his pant pocket where it rested on a small object. He pulled it from his pants, reverting his eyes instead to their reflection in the mirror. "This is it, the big day." He popped the small velvet box open revealing the most beautiful Tacori ring he could find. He'd spent 3 hours pouring over three rings trying to figure which suited her most. His Maria, the most beautiful women he'd ever met. Michael was sure she was the one for him, there wasn't a question in his mind who he would want to spend the rest of his life with. They had been together since he was 21 and she 19. College wasn't the most romantic setting, but when they were together it seemed like something out of a movie. Some cheesy chick flick where the beer stained nights and piss soaked sidewals ceased to exist. They were in love. After another quick pat down, he took one more look, one more deep breath and was out the door. His face glowed, presumably from the butterflies overflowing from his stomach. He skipped down the steps with a giddyness that almost made him jump the last four and chuckle like a little girl. He stifled the urge to hug the next person he saw and scream, "I'm about to marry the girl of my dreams!" Maria was meeting him at The Carlucci Rosemont for dinner before a play, which he was all too sure they would skip out on. So sure in fact, he never even bought the tickets. His feet carried him to the subway performing their own sort of tap dance on the way down. He was floating. He barely noticed the doors closing an instant after he squeezed into the crowded car. He was so taken away in his own bliss that the man holding his arm up to leak his bodily stench didn't bother him as much as he should. They were just a few stops away when something shook Michael out of his wonder world. An explosion of laughter erupted from the center of the car where he noticed people moving out of the way creating a small clearing. He pulled himself up by one of the bars to see what was going on. Suddenly a young kid, about eighteen years old, jumped up on one of the seats and yelled to the other side of the car, "YO! Vince ahaha man dude Rory just tripped over his saggy ass pants, got it hooked on ahaha a seat and his fat ass is hangin out all over the place." The kid presumed to be Vince busted out a roar of laughter tossing his phone through the air to his friend, "Take a picture dude I can't believe I'm missin this, fuck these crowds ahahah." The boys continued their laughter as the groans of the fallen boy rose above the murmors and complaints. They went on laughing and Michael went on watching as memories bubbled beneath the surface. He had three best friends in college. They used to get themselves into the funniest situations when they first met freshman year. They were like the kids from the sandlot but all grown up and still kickin it. He smiled expecting his thoughts to move on, but there was something nagging. He started to remember when those memories stopped. Him and Maria got together... but that's how it seemed like it was supposed to be. He thought to himself, "move on, grow up, that's how shit happens..." There was something terribly unsure, "this is just cold feet. I want this." He spent the rest of the subway ride and walk to the restaurant telling himself over and over that he was ready for marriage. With each step he took, he believed it less and less. Before he walked in the door he took the ring from the box and tucked the ring more discretely into his pant pocket. He tossed the velvet box behind him as an arm reached up and grabbed his, "Hello darling," her smile gleaming, "What was that you just threw?" His face wore fear, he couldn't look her in the eyes, "Just some garbage that was in the suit..." All throughout dinner he tried to maintain a normal conversation, tried to keep eye contact. His palms wouldn't stop sweating and he couldn't help noticing just how beautiful women in Chicago were. Eye contact, eye contact. Check Please. "Oh shit hunny I must've forgotten to bring the tickets, I'm not feeling well, I think I'll just go home."