Getting hitched can make your bank account bleed Benjamins.

The hemorrhage begins with the proposal, as you seek the most unexpected and exciting way to ask your intended if he or she is willing to take the plunge. Billboards, JumboTrons and banners towed by a Cessna are all popular approaches to popping the question. (Cliché, yes, but popular nonetheless.) And they can leave you broke before you say “I do.”

It doesn’t have to go down like that, though. Nope. With a little creativity and a whole lot of love, you can advance toward the altar in style and savings by following these simple steps.

Step 1: Find a mate and fall in love

True, this is easier said than done, but when you find Mr. or Miss Right, you’ll know it.

Once destiny has done its work, you have to do yours. Courtship is key to building the relationship – and if you’re not careful, it can do serious damage to your slush fund. An IMAX movie here, a romantic dinner there, a new Hermès handbag for Christmas – dating can require a second salary. If you’re a fool.

I don’t recommend being cheap on the first few dates – it’ll send the wrong impression – but you don’t have to play the Trump card every time you hit the town. There are a million and one ways to spend time together that don’t cost a dime, and the more thought you put into an outing, the more it’ll be appreciated.

At least that’s the theory. If you’re dating a money-grubbing shrew who only cares about the bling you can bring, drop ’em. Your well-being – and your wallet – will thank you.

Step 2: Save cash; live in sin

Forget what the bible says; if you want your relationship to last, move in together before walking down the aisle. It’s the only option, in my opinion, to proactively work through the issues that arise when two people converge and inevitably invade each others’ spaces – no matter what the “good book” and self-righteous conservatives say.

I can tell you from firsthand experience, however, that sharing close living quarters with someone – whether you’re in love or not – is not easy. Where you’re neat, he’s messy. When she’s hungry, you’re full. And when he has to watch “Cops,” you pine for “Gossip Girl.” Trust me when I tell you that cohabitation is a never-ending clash of personalities that can only be resolved with compromise.

The upside of the situation is that you truly get to know this person – the one with whom you want to spend the rest of life – inside and out. And believe it or not, those nuances that once bothered you eventually become endearing. That’s how you’ll know the love is real.

Let’s not forget, either, that moving in together saves dough. Instead of two cable, Internet and electric bills, you’ll have one. You’ll save on travel expenses because he or she will be right down the hall, and date nights get a lot cozier – and cheaper – with DVDs and pizza on the couch.

Then there’s the dual income – two salaries to pay single expenses. It’s like winning the lottery! Only better, since you can have celebratory sex as soon as the bills are paid.

Yep, just for the hell of it.

Step 3: Enter an Internet contest to win a pair of wedding rings

I know what you’re thinking – how does this it apply to me? To be honest, it doesn’t, so I apologize for indulging myself. You should know, too, that from here on these steps get personal.

Early last year I was researching writing contests online and stumbled across KevinCharnas.com, which invited readers to submit stories on how they met their partners. You’ve probably guessed by now that I won, and, frankly, I’m still ecstatic about it. Not only because I have two shiny new Tungsten rings to sing about in a leotard a la Beyoncé, but also because the anecdote of how fate brought us together is just plain fantastic. Take a look:

Ours is the kind of story that only gets better with age.

I say that because I was afraid (and embarrassed) to tell anyone the truth about how we met when we first started dating. You see, where most people meet at work or in school or even online, Earl and I met at one of America’s most resilient and, in some circles, highly regarded institutions: a male strip club.

Before I go any further, let it be known far and wide that neither of us were working at this fine establishment, located on the east side of everybody’s favorite blue-collar, bayside city, Baltimore. We’re just not those kind of guys. Well, he isn’t. Me on the other hand, I can probably be convinced to take off my clothes for cash after a couple shots of Cuervo. Everybody’s got a price, right? Mine just happens to be the same as cheap tequila.

Anyway, I was on a date that night when I walked in and saw Earl’s beautiful brown face standing sadly against the wall, all by himself, observing the action taking place on stage. Unlike Earl, I didn’t go to this particular club to ogle the boys. This place wasn’t exactly known for its “talent.” Actually, it wasn’t known for anything, by anyone. But it was the only place in town where you could see naked penis without having to buy a dude dinner first.

That made me feel naughty. And I like feeling a little naughty sometimes.

Our eyes met immediately, and having conjured enough confidence to approach Earl after the first of many drinks had infiltrated by blood stream – and my brain – I strutted over, exuding confidence (he says cockiness, but whatev), and asked what a guy like him was doing in a place like that. He replied by asking me the same question. Annoyed that he answered my question with a question, I tried a different approach.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Connecticut,” he answered.

It was right then and there that my pre-binge-drinking bubble burst, and all hope for a future with him fell as flat as the dancer’s ass.

You see, I’m the kind of guy who knows within the first five minutes of meeting someone if there’s relationship potential. With Earl, there was. I felt it – right away. But his location was prohibitive. I had just escaped (totally an understatement!) a four-year, long-distance relationship that not only took its toll on my emotions but also my ability to restrain myself from verbal and physically violent outbursts. For the record, I never hit the dude (who we’ll call Bitch for the remainder of this story), but I should’ve whooped his ass on several occasions. If nothing else, I have willpower, my friend. And it’s that willpower that told me not to involve myself with Earl from Connecticut if I wanted to see my family and friends outside of court-mandated visiting hours. So I politely ended the conversation and resumed my date.

Now, you’re probably wondering why I was flirting with Earl while I was on a date. Let me explain, so I don’t seem like a total douche.

The guy with whom I was on a date contacted me when he moved to northern Virginia from Richmond, where I met him while dating Bitch. We kept in touch as friends, and when he moved closer to my area he called and asked if he could take me out on a date. From the beginning I was completely honest with the guy. I explained the situation with Bitch, how I needed to regain my sanity and generally needed time to re-learn how to love myself after the breakup.

I explained also, that having just gotten out of a long-distance relationship there was no way in hell I was going to throw myself back into one, even if he was only an hour away. He understood, but decided that he still wanted to go out on a date with me even if it was “just as friends.” I agreed.

After our “just as friends” dinner ended, I suggested that we head over to the strip club. It had just opened and I thought it would be a place where we could both have fun. Not to mention, I was trying to avoid intimate situations at all costs, so this seemed like my best bet.

After ignoring his conversation for a few minutes at the strip club bar – because I was busy undressing Earl from across the room – my date kindly suggested that I walk over and talk to Earl. As you already know, I obliged, which brings us back to first meeting Earl.

Though I abruptly ended the initial conversation with Earl because of his unfortunate residential status, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He’s just that kind of guy. Tall, dark and handsome; well spoken; big muscles; nice butt – the whole package. I was sprung and confused and kind of randy all at the same time.

What do I do?, I thought. Do I give into temptation despite my better judgment, or should I just walk away and forget I ever met him?

Obviously I chose the latter – because I’m a sucker – and asked Earl if he’d like to come with us to another bar we were headed to uptown. He said yes.

Fast-forward to later that night. By the time it was last call, I still hadn’t asked for Earl’s number. I had retained some measure of self-respect by consciously choosing to limit my time with him to that one night. I really didn’t want to do the long distance thing again, and asking for his number would be setting myself up for certain disaster, so I said goodbye to him and sent him on his way.

But … as anyone who knows me will tell you, I attract and subsequently invite controversy.

On the way home to my house, Earl’s truck mysteriously (fatefully?) ended up next to mine at a red light. Last chance, I thought, last chance – don’t let this guy get away! So I rolled down my window and did what any half-inebriated homo would do. I uttered those oh-so-famous last words: “Wanna come to my place and ‘watch a movie’?”

And, yes, I’m still on the date with the other guy.

So we’re back at my house, and while my date was generous enough to let me flirt earlier, he wasn’t so pleased that I had brought Earl home with me. Thus, he went up to my room and went to bed while Earl and I sat on my stoop, drinking and chatting until our eyes started to cross from exhaustion.

Naturally, I invited Earl to spend the night – because, let’s face it, class and tact don’t go well with tequila – and subsequently escorted him to my room.

Now, you’re probably thinking, Oh, yeah, this is where it gets good! However, that’s relative. Because, if you can imagine, on one side of my double bed is my date – uh huh, same bed – and on the other is Earl … with me in the middle. Long story short: my date was utterly displeased, Earl couldn’t sleep, and I was, for lack of a better word, validated that I had convinced two strangers to share my sheets in one night.

This is where I’m going to let you down: Nothing happened. Earl left in the morning – with my number! – and the date engaged in a seriously twisted walk of shame an hour later. As destiny would determine, though, the date never called me again, but Earl called me about 12 hours later asking if I’d like to go out on a real, albeit tamer, date that night.

My heart swelled, soared even, as I accepted his invitation. What will be will be, I thought, thinking of how this will likely turn into another long-distance debacle. But I threw caution to the wind, and, later, my underwear across the room, as we embarked on what has been one of the greatest journeys of my life.

Today – three-and-a-half years later, in fact – we live together in New York City. It’s been a struggle adjusting to each others’ habits, idiosyncrasies and stubborn personalities – especially having dated for a year and a half from afar – but in the end, every minute has been worth it. He’s a wonderful, kind, charming, supportive man, and we love each other unconditionally. That love manifests itself in many ways, especially in the passion with which we fight and then make up, but it’s a true and honest love nonetheless.

So why have I chosen to enter your contest with my story? Well, talk of marriage has come up here and there, and while we’re trying to build successful careers, the bottom line is that we’re both still young and on a budget. Winning these rings in this contest would not only be an appreciated incentive to get the marriage ball rolling, but it would also give us another great story to tell our grandkids.

Grandkids that will hopefully appreciate a good strip club as much as we do.

Step 4: Record a video proposal and ask your editor friend to post it

The only advice I can give here is that if you want to propose in an equally “aww”-inspiring fashion, make friends with people in higher places.

Step 5: Eagerly await the answer; put locksmith on call in the meantime

What will he say? The truth is, I don’t know.

You see, love makes you do insane things sometimes – like bare your soul on the Internet for all to see, leaving you vulnerable to the consequences.

My hope, of course, is that he’ll say yes, but, ultimately, you never know where the other person is in the relationship. Maybe he’s not quite ready. Or perhaps he’s been waiting to hear those words for as long as I’ve wanted to speak them. Despite what I want, however, the decision is his and his alone.

My own agenda aside, the real point of this story is that you can make your move toward marriage in a big way without spending a bundle. Use your resources – not your finances – to show that special someone in your life how much he or she means to you. You only have one chance to experience the incredible, frightening feeling of asking your lover to join you in married bliss, and with some thought, time and effort you can pull it off successfully off without losing a dollar.

Your dignity, on the other hand, is up for grabs.

Mikey Rox is an award-winning writer/journalist and the principal of Paper Rox Scissors, a copy and creative consulting company in New York City. To find out if he’s drunk with glee – or grain alcohol (depending on how his proposal went down) – friend him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/m1keyr0x.

Photo credit:  rovaro via Stock Xchng

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