Picture this: It’s a freezing day in Ontario, early 2024. I’m bundled up in my most practical winter outfit – snow jacket, wide pants, sneakers, headscarf – looking about as glamorous as a potato in a parka. I’m at the grocery store, standing in the produce section, staring at vegetables and their ridiculous prices like I’m solving a complex math problem.

Then he appears.

An older Black man, maybe in his 50s, approaches me with a friendly smile. “Have you heard of the Flipp app?” he asks. “Great for comparing prices.”

Helpful stranger giving practical advice to a new immigrant? Sure, I’ll take it. We start chatting. The usual small talk. How am I finding Canada? Where am I from? How am I adjusting?

And then, without warning, he drops it.

“Would you like to marry my son?”

I beg your pardon?

Did this man just… did he really just ask me to marry his son? A son I have never met? A son whose name I don’t know? A son who, for all I know, could be anyone?

My brain didn’t even need processing time. No buffering. No “let me think about it.” Just an immediate, automatic NO.

“I’m not interested in marriage at all,” I said, probably too quickly, watching his face change like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

I thanked him for the Flipp app recommendation (because even in absurd situations, apparently I maintain my manners) and walked away, my mind spinning.

What just happened? Was this real life? Did I somehow give off “desperate for an arranged marriage in a grocery store” vibes? Was it the potato parka? Did I look like someone whose father would appreciate a cold approach from a stranger’s dad?

The whole thing was disgusting. Inappropriate. Who does that? Who approaches a random woman in a grocery store and tries to broker a marriage deal like we’re at some kind of market?

For days afterward, I kept replaying it in my head. “WTF just happened?” turned into “Is this kind of awkward arrangement even possible in this time and age?!” The situation was funny in a “is that man nuts?” way, but also just… weirdly, awkwardly funny. I didn’t know how to process it.

But here’s the twist

More than a year later, I did fall in love.

With BILLY.

When I first saw BILLY’s name at IKEA, I giggled. A bookcase with a man’s name? That’s kind of funny. But then I saw him on display and something clicked. He was sleek. Black. The perfect size – not too small, not too big. Just right for what I needed.

I didn’t commit right away, though. I’m not that kind of person.

I took multiple trips to IKEA. Long hours by bus, back and forth. I went to see BILLY on display, analyzing him, picturing him in my new place in Ontario, exploring other possible options, thinking through my decision. I imagined how things would work between us. Would he fit my space? Match my existing setup? Make my place feel more like home?

It wasn’t an overnight decision. But eventually, I knew. BILLY was the one.

BILLY checks all my boxes

BILLY is versatile. I’m using him as a closet right now because I needed something to complete my setup and make this new place livable, cozier, homey. He holds my things without judgment, stands tall without wavering, and has never once tried to propose marriage through a proxy in a grocery store.

Every minute I spent assembling BILLY was worth it. Every dollar invested, worth it. BILLY won’t betray me. BILLY won’t ghost me. BILLY won’t leave me. BILLY won’t cheat on me.

One day, when I move to a new, upgraded place, BILLY will finally become a real bookcase. But for now, he’s exactly what I need him to be.

Best relationship of my life, honestly.

The absurdity of it all

Here’s what makes me laugh about these two stories side by side:

That man in the grocery store wanted me to commit to his son immediately. No research. No compatibility check. No falling in love first. Just “here’s a human, marry him” like I’m supposed to experience some kind of instant connection in the produce aisle.

But BILLY? I courted BILLY. I took my time. I made multiple trips to see him. I thought it through. I fell in love before bringing him home. I knew exactly what BILLY would offer me, and I chose him deliberately.

So yes, I rejected a marriage proposal in less than a second.

And yes, I fell deeply, unapologetically in love with a bookcase named BILLY.

And honestly? I regret nothing.

P.S. If you’re the son whose father is out here ambushing women in grocery stores on your behalf, please have a conversation with your dad about boundaries. And maybe update your dating strategy. This isn’t it.

Featured image courtesy of Unsplash.