Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Forget Fingerprints

This is a repost from a couple years ago. Still, I can't pass by that junk jewelry shop in the mall without breaking out in hives remembering this incident. Good luck to those of you doing NaNoWriMo. I have opted instead to make daily submissions of personal essays, because my life is stranger than fiction.
We took my wedding rings to the jeweler in the mall. The prongs on the head are worn and have to be replaced, so I will be without my rings for two weeks. I feel lost without them.

I said to the man who can shop daily in the same hardware store for bargains, "You go on down to Sears and I will look in Claire's or Icing (kid's jewelry shop) for a cheap costume ring."

Actually I didn't want to be seen in public tonight at the dance all gussied up appearing to be an unmarried floozy. I need a ring on my finger. So I walked into the store and was approached by the sophomore behind the counter who kept a wary eye on me.

I found a ring display; each ring was wired to a small card. I found one I liked, slipped that size five ring onto my size six finger, and as soon as it passed over my knuckle I knew! It was stuck, locked on, not budging a bit. My eyes bulged! I had the mother of long-forgotten hot flashes. I gulped. I imagined security watching me on video. I imagined them calling the cops, the fire department.

I put the card to my lips and lubricated that finger. Okay, I slobbered all over the ring. My lipstick smeared the card a pretty shade of pink. I twisted my finger. But that ring wouldn't turn left or right, slide back or forth. I walked around holding my hand out "admiring" the ring on the card attached to my finger, wondering what in the world I was going to do. That's when three young teens came in to browse, and the sales girl went to assist them. I grabbed a bottle of antibacterial soap behind her counter, slopped a glob onto my ring finger and slimed that ring right off my hand. I sighed loudly with relief and hung that card back up.

It looks so pretty and pink hanging there among the plain white ones. I will never go back into that store. Forget fingerprints, they have my lip prints on file at that store.

I am ringless for two weeks. I don't care if I do look like a girlfriend instead of a wife at the dance tonight. If I can get my heels up high enough I'll kick my own behind.

10 comments:

Mary Horner said...

Funny story! I, too, have had my fair share of embarrassing moments at the mall.

Val said...

Well, thanks to the slobber, they also have your DNA. Enjoy life on the lam!

Mevely317 said...

Laughing out loud in Phoenix! Thank you for making my night, Linda!

Sioux said...

After chuckling, I vaguely remembered this from your original posting...However, a great story is enjoyed over and over again.

Thanks for making me laugh. I needed it.

Bookie said...

Oh, I know this feeling...funny...when it is on someone else that is!

Daisy said...

Haha! Oh dear. I bet you're not the first to have this happen to them. :)

Susan said...

ha ha ha ha ha Good one, Linda. Susan

Tammy said...

Hilarious story that was so perfectly told, I had a sympathy hot flash just reading it!

Optimistic Existentialist said...

"I had the mother of long-forgotten hot flashes" - LOL you know how to paint a picture. You should write some memoirs :)

Donna Volkenannt said...

You are too funny! I bet the teenage clerks had a lot of fun retelling the story.