About crybabies, flash mobs and melting hearts

Oh, God, I’m such a crybaby. And again, one of those countless Flashmob wedding application videos got me cold. To Bruno Mars´ “Marry You” dancers swing their hips, circle an unsuspecting girl, at some point her beloved peels herself out of the crowd, gets on her knees in front of her, pulls out a glittering ring and mumbles inaudibly his rehearsed words. She strikes her hands in delight in front of her face, nods, cries. The two fall into each other’s arms… By the time the nervous groom appeared on the scene, I had melted into tears, sniffing at the laptop, the make-up melting. Well, that’s great….

Yes, I love kitschy romance, love and if I may be a witness of happiness – even with completely unknown people. Don’t ask how I feel when I’m allowed to attend a church wedding: Brooks flow there and my bank neighbours usually squint at me in disguise, ashamed. “Does she have to cry like that…!”

Oh yes. She must.

The young gentlemen are quite brave already with their Flashmob applications on busy places, in department stores or at the airfield; what if the sweetheart says NO?! There are lots of these videos on the net, too. One suffers with the excited gentleman and finds the lady running away mostly stupid. But Honey, didn’t you discreetly sound out the tendencies of your sweetheart beforehand?

Well, I prefer to cry with emotion when a romantic proposal is crowned with a sobbing YES. The crybaby in front of the laptop pulls out her handkerchief and blows her nose while her heart goes over because of the wonderful young happiness with the prospect of a wonderful future together.

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