Tied in Knots About Tying the Knot

By Emmy Serviss / Boston

Do you remember the 21st night of September? Turns out that I always will, since that was the date in 2024 that my boyfriend Charlie chose to propose. It had nothing to do with the Earth, Wind & Fire song. That was just a funny coincidence.

We had talked about getting engaged for a little while, and we got to a point where he was openly teasing me about the impending proposal, refusing to give me any hints or answer any questions. And I knew better than to ask my friends, because those whom he did confide in were sworn to secrecy.

The only thing I knew with fair certainty was that it would happen before October. My rationale was that since Halloween is my favorite holiday, ideally we’d be engaged before October started, so I could enjoy all my regular festivities without pre-proposal panicking.

The last photo of my ringless left hand

I started to have an idea of when the engagement might happen. I was planning on having a board game birthday party in mid-August, after I returned from a trip to the Midwest. But then we had to cancel the party, due to my being exposed to Covid at the tail end of said trip.

Charlie and I decided we could do a joint birthday board game party in September instead. As the days in September ticked away and we were still just boyfriend and girlfriend, it started to dawn on me that our board game party might be the big day. The couple of weeks leading up to the party, I picked up on a few clues…

Clue #1: There were only nine days left in September, so logically there weren’t many possible days left.

Clue #2: Charlie’s best friend Rachel offered to buy us a birthday cake.

Clue #3: I had created an online invite months ago, so we had already invited our closest friends to the gathering.

Clue #4: Friends that weren’t able to attend seemed really sad they were missing it.

Clue #5: My good friend Courtney said I should get a manicure sometime soon, just in case!

The day of the party, I tried to be as calm and normal as possible. Inside, I was absolutely freaking out. When Rachel dropped the cake off in the morning, I tried to test the waters by asking Charlie if I could see the cake. I thought that if he wouldn’t let me see the cake, that would definitely be a big tip-off. But he let me take a look at the cake, and it was indeed our birthday cake.

We bought these mysteriously numbered candles since our combined age was 72

Since the cake didn’t reveal anything helpful, I told myself that I had to go into the party assuming that it was just our board game party, so that I wouldn’t be disappointed if the proposal didn’t happen after all.

The party started at 3 pm and we decided since there was a ComedySportz match that night and several partygoers had to leave early for call time at the theater, we would cut the cake at 4 pm. This made perfect sense to me and didn’t imply anything.

However.

If you’ve ever thrown a party, you know that people don’t usually start showing up until at least 30-45 minutes after the official start time. So when every guest arrived by 3:15 pm, I knew something was up. Fast forward to 4:03 pm, and Charlie says, “We should cut the cake now, huh?”

About five minutes later, we were engaged.

My best friends Angela and Andrea bombarded me with hugs, as I tried to stop crying long enough for a photo

Thank goodness there are plenty of pictures and video from the actual event itself, because I essentially blacked out in my overwhelmed emotional state. I remember we blew out the candles together and out of the corner of my eye I saw him get down on one knee. It’s kind of a blur after that, but the video shows me crying and nodding and flapping my arms like a little frightened bird.

The funniest part was after I finally nodded my “yes” to the question, and Charlie asked if I was okay and I squealed, “NO!” Charlie laughed, and immediately turned to our friends and clarified, “She said yes! She said yes! She didn’t say ‘no’ to the thing!”

It was an amazing night, and certainly one that I’ll remember forever. And then six weeks later, Donald Trump was elected president.

Again.

Suddenly my optimistic bride-tinted-glasses were as shattered as the windows on Kristallnacht. After Trump took office for the second time, it became clear that the fears of the Left were not unfounded. Things went from bad to worse really quickly, and wedding planning seemed like a pointless and frivolous waste of time.

I’m not religious, but being Jewish is an important part of who I am. I want Charlie and I to sign a ketubah - a Jewish marriage license. I want to get married under a chuppah - a traditional Jewish canopy. And I want Charlie to break a glass as we get married - a symbol of the fragility of our relationship and a reminder of the care we must take to protect it.

One thought keeps bubbling to the surface, over and over again. An insane irrational thought, but I can’t help it from racing through my mind. Since Charlie was raised in a (somewhat) Christian household, and I was raised in a (moderately) Jewish household, our marriage would taint Charlie's "pure" blood. By Nazi standards, anyway. And since we're basically living in a Nazi regime, I can't help but wonder...

...how long before it’s illegal for Charlie to marry me?

Would I be thrown into one of the new and improved "NOT" concentration camps?

Would he be executed for being a blood traitor?

The thought is so crazy, my friends and family reassured me that it was ridiculous. And yet we watched human rights get stripped away, we watched the Constitution get trampled by congressional jackboots, we watched ICE agents kidnap women and children off the street, and we watched as Republicans built actual concentration camps in the Florida Everglades.

And they laughed.

They laughed.

“Alligator Alcatraz” is a concentration camp and no one can convince me otherwise

I go back and forth between two thoughts. The first is that it feels absolutely ridiculous to be planning a wedding right now, when the world is on fire and drowning at the same time. And the second is that we need to find joy wherever we can.

So we’ll tally our RSVP cards, build our bouquets and count the days until the wedding on October 25. And we'll continue to pretend desperately that we don’t live in a fiery hellscape, while counting the days until the midterm elections.

Looks like I’ll be phone banking on my honeymoon.

“Never again” is NOW

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Emmy Serviss is a Boston-based writer, actor and improv coach. When she's not binge-watching old TV series with her fiancé, you can find her at The Rozzie Square Theater performing with ComedySportz Boston and coaching the ComedySportz Boston Minor League team. When not on the stage, Emmy enjoys playing D&D, stressing out about her upcoming wedding and counting the days until Halloween.