You finally corner your friend to tell them about your terrible date, open your mouth, and they jump in with "Oh yeah, my date was worse—" So you wait. And wait. Thirty-seven minutes later they're still describing their appetizer while you're standing there holding the news that you got engaged. You leave without telling them. They still don't know. Neither do you, technically, because you're not sure it counts if a man proposes while you're internally screaming.