Good, Luck Jason Mourn.
Good, Luck Jason Mourn. funny stories
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alansshorts
alansshorts A passionate comedy writer
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
This is it, the day I thought would never come. The day I have been planning for months on end. Everything must be perfect, everything will be perfect. I have it planned to the minutest detail. It can't go any other way than how I've imagined it. I'm armed with my secret weapon after all, my lucky eraser, and my good luck charm.

Good, Luck Jason Mourn.

This is it, the day I thought would never come. The day I have been planning for months on end. Everything must be perfect, everything will be perfect. I have it planned to the minutest detail.

It can't go any other way than how I've imagined it. I'm armed with my secret weapon after all, my lucky eraser, and my good luck charm.

I've had it since my early school days, when my biggest worry was passing a simple math exam.

It didn't let me down then, and it won't fail me now, not with such a life-altering obstacle ahead of me. I feel the eraser in my pocket. I feel calmer now.

It wipes all my fears and worries away.

It's guided me this far in life, and even put me on the path to Hannah Nugent, my love, who now holds the rest of my life in the palm of her clenched hands.

I've brought Hannah here, to a place that holds a special place in both our hearts. Franklin's Farmer's Market, where we first met.

It was fate, meant to be, written in the stars, kismet, destiny, sun shining, birds singing, all the romantic cliches in the world belonged to us that heavenly day.

There we were, just two strangers reaching for the asparagus. Now, I'm reaching for the engagement ring I spent nine months' salary on.

Some people spend three but I don't do things in half measures. I go big or I go home. And today, I'm going big.

She doesn't suspect a thing, innocently staring at some radish. She has no idea what's coming. She looks so beautiful, yet sad, like a depressed Margot Robbie.

I don't scrub up too bad myself, like a slightly cooler Rick Moranis.

There's quite a crowd in the market today, including a group of surprise guests hidden in plain sight, organized by yours truly. I take out my phone and message the leader.

Everyone is in position, ready, willing, and able to help me make my dream proposal come true.

I look at Hannah, who is having trouble looking me in the eye. Like she's sick of the sight of me.

She's been keeping her distance lately, like she's not telling something, afraid to say whatever it is that's been on her mind. Maybe I've waited too long to pop the question.

But those sad eyes will be beaming in no time. I message the group leader one more time. They are waiting on my signal. This is it. I'm making my move. Here's to the rest of my life.

'Hannah,' I say.

Hannah sighs.

'Yes,' She says, and just about makes eye contact.

There's no going back now. I feel my lucky eraser in my pocket one final time, and pray for lady luck to shine on me once more. I clear my throat.

'It's a beautiful night,' I sing, in broad daylight, releasing my inner Bruno Mars, 'We're looking for something dumb to do.'

Hannah's face drops. Passerby's stop and stare, the Market seller's eyes are on stalks.

'Hey, Hannah,' I crow, raising my arms gloriously in the air, the signal. 'I think I want to marry you.'

Hannah's face is as rouge as a lady of the night.

'It's a beautiful night,' the flash mob's voices chime in, 'He's looking for something dumb to do.

I'm beaming now. It's going well.

'Hey, Hannah,' they harmonize, 'he thinks he wants to marry you.'

I drive it home. 'I think I want to marry, you.'

'He thinks he wants to marry you.' The group sings in perfect harmony. Money well spent.

I get down on one knee, my arms are outstretched and I ask the life-changing question.

'Will you marry me, Hannah?' I say.

Silence. Eerie silence, the flash mob and the market Patrons all lean forward in expectance, smiles plastered all across their faces.

I'm waiting. Waiting for a yes, just one little yes.

Instead what greets me is the contents of Hannah's stomach, as it blows like a volcano, the remnants of which can now be seen all over my face, and more importantly the obscenely expensive ring.

The crowd gasps, and I'm left dangling. I've never seen Hannah so mortified as she looks around for an escape route.

'Jason,' She says. 'We're over.'

'What?' I say, tears already forming.

'I didn't know how to tell you.' She says, all sympathetic, 'It's just not working anymore. You're just too controlling. I'm sorry.'

And with that I watch her run out of my life.

The silence lingers, and the tears are flowing. The flash mob has trailed off, fully paid, job done, regardless of the result, and all I'm left with is a soiled ring, and broken pride.

I have no one. Not even my lucky eraser. I wanted to go big, but now, I'm going home.

I stand, and try my best to shun off the embarrassment. I put on a brave face. I hate Franklin's Farmer's market.

Now a forever reminder of my greatest romantic failure, and the first time my lucky charm has ever failed to deliver the goods.

I hold back more tears, and avoid the cringe-inducing looks of the lingering crowd as I leave.

I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn and a cute little redhead is staring at me.

'Excuse me,' She says, 'But I think you dropped this.'

She holds my lucky eraser. I didn't even know I had dropped it. I reach for it, and I feel something else. Electricity.

'I'm sorry for what happened.' She says, 'but I thought you sang beautifully.'

She smiles. I smile. And all my fears and worries are washed away. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I've still got some luck left after all.

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