Lesson 2: Pricetags Are Overrated

I wanted to rip her little blonde head off.

There I was, off in my own little homicidal daydream. If I were in a movie, I would've done it in slow motion with epic music playing loudly in the background. I'd have left the store greeted by a parade of people cheering, chanting, and throwing high-fives. They'd lift me onto their shoulders and carry me into the sunset; a hero for all who have ever been openly invalidated.

Yes. That is how it should have happened. It would have been fantastic.

But it didn't. Let me explain.

My boyfriend, you see, has a thing for watches. If we were playing "desert island" he might even include one on the list of his top five essentials. He particularly likes the ones with the clear faces, so you can see all the working parts in motion. I don't wear watches, personally. I don't like the idea of something tick-tocking scornfully as I waste my entire day playing computer solitaire. Anyway...

One day, while spending the day window shopping, we passed a jewelry store with watches on display, so we popped in to take a look. One step through the doors and I could see the faces light up of the two women behind the counter responsible for greeting us. One of them came over (the blonde) asked how we were doing, and if she could help us find anything.

"No, thank you," we replied. "We're just looking."

"Well let me know if you need anything! Oh and the bridal section is right over here."

Oooooh, sneaky-sneaky.

  

We continued to gaze at the different timepieces, my boyfriend oohing and ahhing over various makes and models. Behind me, I heard the sound of heels digging into dense carpet.

"Have you ever been in before?"
"Um, no. We were just walking by."
"Oh well then you haven't seen our engagement rings!"
"Well no I haven't, but really-
"Here let me show you!"
"No really I'm fine we're just-
"What kind of mount do you prefer?"
"Well I'm not really sure what a mount-
"What kind of cut do you prefer?"
"Um, I don't know I've never-
"A lot of people like the princess cut, like this one here."

Good God woman! I finally joined her at the opposite counter. I didn't want to, but I figured hey, what's the harm? I can't buy anything, so I might as well make her do some work if she was going to be so pushy.

I also want to point out that this puts Chris (my boyfriend) in a difficult position. We've been dating roughly 3 1/2 years, have discussed kids, marriage and the whole kit-n-caboodle, so what is he supposed to say? "Leave us alone, please. I'm positively not interested in any kind of future committment with my girlfriend." It's a complicated situation. He shrugged and watched me slowly walk over to the dark side.

She proceeded to show me every kind of sparkly circular band she could dig up. And since she was asking my opinion, I was being honest.

"What about this?" she asked, taking one out of the dark blue velvet box it rested in.
"Too big."
"Or this?"
"Too big."
"This?"
"Too big."
"The diamond is too big?"
"Yes. All of it is too big. I'd rather have something very small."

She showed me another, and another, and another. Too big, too big, too big. Her frustration was becoming apparent.

 

"Well what kind of ring do you envision for youself, then?"

"Something very simple," I replied, wistfully. "A simple band, no detail whatsoever, and a single, tiny stone on top. That's all. It doesn't even have to be a diamond, really."

She looked perplexed. "Well I guess it's more sentimental that way..."

It was a kind of backhanded compliment, and I knew it. But it's completely true. I don't want anything fancy or extravagant because I like the idea of a ring symbolizing the love two people share for each other, not the amount of their income. I'd also rather Chris pick it out so that the sight of it on my hand reminds me of him. Yes, call me a bit odd, but I find it incredibly romantic. Three months wages? I couldn't care less! Give me something that is durable and will last long into our old age. Something that will survive toddlers, teenagers, cancer, and unstable porch swings. If that happens to be a petrified watermelon flavored ring pop bought at a garage sale, then so be it.

Finally, she showed me a ring in a different case.

"Now, what about this?"

"Too big."

"Well, " she scolded, "that's the smallest diamond we carry. If you want smaller you are going to have to special order it."

She abruptly locked the display case, turned and joined the other woman behind the back counter. I was dumbfounded. I hadn't even wanted to look at rings in the first place! Taken aback, I clumsily started back to join my boyfriend when something caught my eye: earrings. Stud earrings. Tiny stud earrings. I felt triumphant.

"Like this!" I shouted. "This here! If I could just put one of these on top of a plain band it would be perfect!"

Chris turned and joined me at the counter. The blonde woman rushed over.

"What, now?"

I pointed at the flat display of small diamond earrings ranging in a variety of sizes.

"That one, there, at the very, very bottom."

She pulled it out and pointed to one in the middle of the display.

"Here?"
"No, below that."
"This size?"
"No the one on the very bottom. The smallest size."

She moved her finger down the list until she arrived at what could have possibly been a microscopic piece of glitter.

"Here?"

"Yes," I said, victorious. "It's perfect."

 

She looked up and her eyes met mine. She tilted her head to the side and then, coldly, from her thin bird-like lips came:

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes and put the display back. I looked at Chris just in time to see his shoulders drop. This woman, in one word, had shattered the self worth of the man I love. She had knowlingly confirmed the false belief held by many: if a lady says she wants a modest wedding ring, she's lying.

She's settling.

I absolutely wasn't settling, but it was too late. Chris looked all but broken. As I said earlier, I wanted to rip her little blonde head off.

We left the store reminded of a predicament familiar to anyone living below the poverty line. Do I really desire a small, dainty ring with minimal embellishments or am I just attempting to spare the feelings of my financially strained future husband?

My answer? I honestly don't even need a ring. I'm a 26 year old broke college student hopelessly in love with a baseball coach. As long as he agrees to spend the rest of his life with me, I am perfectly happy. Someday, when one of us inevitably widows the other, I highly doubt the amount of money spent on anything will be a point of interest in the eulogy.

So like I said, pricetags are completely overrated.