Tying The Knot, Part 2: Shopping For The Rock

My girlfriend was in town this past weekend, having her own experience with Megabus (she agreed with me that it wasn't half-bad). We planned to spend a day out at stores having her try on different rings so that she could get a feel for how they looked on her hand. I would then have a clue as to what she prefers when I decide to buy the engagement ring. The experience was insightful because it gave me a hint as to what I'm in store for during marriage: The more you think you know what your wife wants, the more she mixes things up.

This is to say, she looked at a ton of rings that seemed to be the exact size, design, and metal that she wanted, and over and over, she shook her head no. I could just stand by helplessly and wonder just what precisely she could be searching for. She had been saying all along that she prefers a solitaire diamond, no little diamonds on the side or anything like that, preferably white gold, princess cut, at least a half-carat, with a small band. Simple enough. But we searched at least five jewelry stores at North Riverside Park Mall, and they all had many rings fitting the above description, and my honey kept her head shaking back and forth as if a switch on her side was stuck and she couldn't stop. On one, the small band she thought she desired was too small; on the next, the design of the setting wasn't something she liked; on the next, the diamond didn't "bling" enough; on the next, the diamond was too small. She kept looking at me during the process and asking what I thought, but honestly, I didn't have much to add to the proceedings because it's not my ring. She had to be happy with her choice, not me. I was just the money man. I appreciated her trying to keep me involved, but since I was mostly ignored by the jewelers anyway, this is something she honestly could have done without me. One of the jewelers turned to me at one point and said, "You're gonna have your work cut out for you." Don't I know it. I can just see her dissecting my attempts at buying her a dress or decorating a room. The one thought I kept telling myself was, hey, she's obviously a choosy person, so I suppose that makes me special because she's choosing me to be her husband.

She finally wrote down the model number of a ring that "blinged" enough for her and gave it to me for safekeeping. I have since lost it. So when I do finally get the funds to buy the ring, I will have to go off my recollections of what she said she liked about this particular ring (that looked exactly like all the others) that made it stand out from the crowd. And so goes another valuable lesson--pay fucking attention at all times to what the lady wants, even if it seems like it makes no difference.