There are tell-tale signs a human male may be about to propose to a human female. For example, if he gets down on one knee and physically proposes—this is a clear indication of his intent.

However, prior to that moment the dame in question may be left wondering when he’s going to “pop the question“.

Today’s modern woman is wondering just such a thing. Thankfully, we’re on hand with our staggering expertise to spill the beans, dish out the dirt, and discuss a potential escape plan.

When a Man Proposes to a Woman and How do You Know That’s Gonna Happen

Dear agony aunt,

My name is Cynthia and I’m 35 and I want to be married. I’ve been going out with my boyfriend for the last five years and he seems okay. He’s not Brad Pitt, but then most men aren’t (except for Brad Pitt), but he holds down a steady job and he doesn’t wet the bed or anything weird like that. Plus, his general Average Joe appearance means women generally turn a blind eye to him, which limits the possibility of an affair with Gillian Anderson or Amy Adams.

However… his actions are quite vague. Are they signs of an impending proposal? This is what he’s been up to recently:

• Sitting around on his butt watching the football while drinking beer (my theory is this guy, as in my boyfriend, is trying to “throw me off the scent” by acting in an aloof manner).
• Clogging the toilet.
• Going bald.
• Getting fatter.
• Being lazy.
• Not doing the housework.
• Belching.
• Scratching himself.
• Refusing to cook.
• Refusing to take out the bins.
• Telling me to “stop nagging, woman!”.
• Commenting that he wants to go to Ibiza this year with “the lads”.

As far as I’m concerned, these are clear indications he’s about to propose to me. I’m flattered, but also a little scared. What if I accidentally say “Fuck off, asshole!” by mistake? I know the likelihood of my messing up my wording that bad is limited, but still… that’d be a disaster! I know I need to say, “YES! A THOUSAND TIMES OVER, YES!” but that could easily evolve into a verbally abusive onslaught if I screw it up because of nerves.

So, yesterday I started practicing my “YES, BARRY!!” (he’s called Barry) shriek. I practiced it for several hours.

Later, the SOB accused me of having an affair because I was screaming so much. That’s when I accidentally let it slip! I said, “No, I was just practicing saying yes for when you propose to m…” and I realised the mortal error I’d made. Barry’s face looked like a cowpat had hit it. Like he’d trodden in dog doo. Like he’d just been told by the doctor he’s got inoperable gout and will have to lay off the pies for life.

No backing out of that one. He’s not talked to me since, either, he just sits on the sofa drinking beer, scratching himself, belching, and all with a 1000 yard stare of shellshock on his increasingly fat face.

What do I do?

Yours, Cynthia

Christ almighty, Cynthia, what a tedious slog of a read that was! Just be concise in future, will you? Really, proposals and other sickly sweet, nauseating crap like that isn’t our speciality.

But… due to The Agony Aunt Code of Conduct, we’re obliged to offer some advice. However, section 43 (z) on page 3,421 of The Agony Aunt Code of Conduct stipulates:

“While it is your duty as an Agony Aunt to always provide advice the, aforementioned, advice is ab inito and, as an affidavit is, therefore, de facto of malum in se, hence the lack of need to provide effective guidance. Obiter dicta.”

As such, we’re not under any obligation to provide advice anyone would consider:

• Good
• Of sound logic
• Offering any general coherence

And that’s why we’re recommending you switch to an instant noodle diet and drink nothing but the cheapest, harshest of black coffees. Give it a month and a proposal will be the least of your concerns!