Engagement

When I got up this morning, I didn’t think by nightfall, I would be leaping to places feared by men even bigger than me. I just thought I’d get my oil changed in the Moose, drink some coffee next door and see some holiday festivities towards the end. Maybe slide in a haircut and a beer in between the now and then.

And it all seemed to go as planned. I gave my keys to the grease monkey, walked into the coffeehouse across the street and got comfortable outside in the smoking section with a newspaper and cup of New Orleans blend. The oil change was taking longer than it should since I could see my truck unmoved an hour later, but the crisp November air and free refills made the wait almost pleasant. I called a friend who’s almost a sister and we talked about high points and low points of a relationship. This could be where it all started to change. My thoughts turned from a day to rest and get a few things done, to just being grateful for the one I go home to.

Four refills later the call ended and I walked back to the mechanic’s to see why my truck never had its hood open in the past two hours. "Oh, we are just about to get started on it," he said. "It won’t be much longer now." I digressed from getting indignant and decided to just wait it out. I had already been there this long anyway. I went back to the coffee shop and noticed a hair salon on the side opposite the tire and lube. But when I got to the door, a lady sliding into her car yelled, "We’re closed. Be open Tuesday," just as she slammed her door shut and started the engine. The coffee was starting to take its shaky affects on my hands and I needed something to work off this nervous energy. Next to the salon was a jewelry store and in the condition I was in, this was a good a place as any.

I had seen the store before, but never from the inside. It looked like a place where when a guy like me walked in, their noses would point to the sky and I would have to do everything short of going behind the counter myself to get some help. But what else did I have to do? I walked in and between double rows of jewelry cases. One side carried rubies and emeralds and the other pearls and gold. As I was almost around the circle of gems I came to what I didn’t know I was subconsciously looking for – a few cases of engagement rings. A small well-dressed man approached me while I had my head down examining what I knew I couldn’t afford.
"What kind of ring are you looking for today?" "Something with a filigree band."
"Ahh, a man that knows what he wants. OK, I think I got some right here." He slid a door from behind the cabinet and took out a diamond with some gold around it. “This is a nice one.”

I knew what he was doing, I have done some sales too. But I have never had to play the straight man with so much caffeine running through me at once. I looked over the rock and pulled the tag out without trying to let him see me. It read $9,000. I got the old fight or flight feeling, but I would have done the same thing as him I suppose. Just to see what kind of money he might make today. But I held strong and said I was looking for something a bit nicer. I went into some better descriptions of what I had in mind and he seemed to think I was pretty certain of what I wanted, though he continued to pull rings costing several thousand dollars out of the case. He lined each one up in a row on some black felt allowing them to all dance, shine and scream out for my checkbook. They were nice, but not what I wanted.

I fondled one I liked over and over. It wasn’t the picture in my mind, but a nice ring and affordable. Surprisingly affordable. But while I was thinking really hard about it, I saw it; perfect and dainty; great color, clarity and size. This was it. No longer could I be a nonchalant shopper. There was something I had to have.