debutaunt.com

Bling or Blong?

this story came up the other night. I'm bored so I'll post it. Yeah. It's long. Read it or skip it - I don't care.

And yeah, asshole, it's about you and your freak ass.

Last year my birthday sucked* mainly for one reason. Yes, I got engaged. You'd think a girl would flip and be all excited about it, but this wasn't something magical and special that you wanted to tell your grandkids or friends or anything.

So, I had told Chef that my first husband proposed in bed - half jokingly, half seriously after 20 days of dating. No ring, but it was funny, sincere, sexy and kinda silly.

So I had said that if I ever got proposed to again, I wanted it to be story-worthy and not like... we just boinked like rabbits and he popped the question.

And I wanted a rock because I have some bling already and what's the point of a dink ring? But that if you couldn't afford it, buy me a simple band from Sears instead. I'd be just as happy with that. I'm not a gold digger, but go big or go home.

At this point, I'm in no rushed to get married (hell, I'm still not divorced) and I don't need some damn ring or promise or anything. I'm still not ready to settle down either.

So anyway, there had been some wishy washy plans for my birthday because he had been being like the Dick from Hell lately and couldn't get his "big plan" to work, since he kept fucking hinting at some private and special (HA!) dinner party and had already told every friend of mine as well. I just wanted to cancel because he was acting all aweird and dickish.

Not to mention, the douchebag kept asking me my ring size (yay... surprise - not! Note to boys - go find a ring she wears and measure it. don't fucking ask them) I like surprises, but hate when someone is too childish to keep the surprise and keeps hinting at it.

A few days prior my dad was in town and Chef hooked up tickets at this cool jazz concert that I knew my dad would like. Chef was all bugging (or tweaking maybe now that I look back on it) and I swore I thought he was going to propose in front of everyone at the Verizon. I had told him my family is old fashioned so if he ever did want to pop the question, he best ask dad first. He didn't propose and was still all jittery and weird in front of my dad.

So basically for my birthday, his plans all crapped out and I had to handle it - as usual. I hooked up dinner at this small mexican joint and then we went to go see this band, Riverfly. I had told him (after his stupid hints) that I didn't want a proposal at Riverfly in front of all my friends because I don't like big specticals, but proposing at the Jazz concert would have been cool because they were all strangers.

So, the proposal: That afternoon D-gurl and I hung out and went and got our hair did at J's salon. Then a bit of shopping. It was July and it was Africa Hot. A special brand of hot. My folks were staying at my sisters and Chef was hanging out there. But Chef was home all alone and they were out running errands.

So I go to pick him up, all sweaty and hot and having to pee. D-gurl is missing somewhere (she was in the kitchen hiding), and I was like... I have to pee. He makes me stay in the living room and says some canned Hallmark crap like he can't live his life without me or whatever. All I can think of is that's nice. I have to pee.

I'm sure it was a sweet sentiment, but when your bladder is aching from marathon shopping... well, you can't think past the impending flow. Need. Relief. Immediately.

So he hands me this ring from his pocket. No box (bad sign girls). Pretty diamond - not a rock, but not a chip.

And

It was broken. Like he had broken it off of the wedding band. Not cut, but like he ripped it apart (he later fessed up that he did break it off) And only fit my pinky (remember.. he asked my ring size - I wear a size 9 but this was a size 5.5)

And... was scratched. Badly. Like all over.

I was happy, but not estactic. I mean.. not quite like the movies or whatever, not romantic in the least (I smelled of sweat - bad!), but it was sincere. But it seemed pressured (not from me - AT ALL) and he was rushed and nervous, but in a guilty nervous way.

So. debu_ballsy asks where he got the ring from. He said Biddle something or other. I'm like... um, why would they sell you a [i]used ring[/i]? (I know my stones, folks, Biddle is top notch). He said it's not used but was scratched from being carried around in his pocket. That he meant to propose and ask my dad, but that he hadn't done it for some reason or other. So he carried around this ring in his pocket and the coins scratched it. Yeah. Right.

So I ask if we can go to Biddle and have it resized. He says he doesn't have the receipt because he mailed it to his mother for the insurance. And that we can't go there to have it refitted. Nice. So I get my big proposal and have a ring I can't really show off. Nor can I tell anyone in my family because he skipped dad. But he had told the world that he was going to propose, so they are all expecting it. Great.

I'm still thinkin that he hit the pawn shop at this point.

I finally get to pee, and made my kidneys sigh in relief.

Then at the party all my friends and the band ask to see "the ring." See. How cute is this. It's on my fucking pinky. Yay! No. My parents and family don't know. I can't tell them because jackass can't get shit right.

He tells everyone about the proposal and I'm all embarrassed and turning red. I'm shy like that and prefer low keyness in public. They even had some damn video camera on us - yes. Me. The one that hates having her picture taken.

He gets drunk and acts like a douchebag at the bar, and we fight and then when we get home, he fucking passes out on my bed (sans shower - ewwww fucking makes me want to hork cos he stinks), and I can't move his lard ass (all 300 lbs of it) so I end up sleeping on the living room floor (I don't have a couch) because he's snoring like no other. Yeah. I also have a few herniated disks in my back at this point so I'm fucking miserable and cold. Happy Freaking Birthday!

He later goes to take the ring to this other jeweler to be refitted and reset to something in white gold (since all my bling is platinum or silver or white gold and I don't wear gold gold).

So NE-WAY - a few months go by and long story short I get this IM from a girl I know (no names), and it's directed at him. She says she wants the rest of the money and feels that she has been ripped off and that she just wants the RING back.

I was like... oh really?

Turns out he promised to pay this woman in increments for the ring, but he never did. He gave her a few hundred bucks. Since he couldn't come up with the $300 to get the ring from the jeweler and waited too long, they still have it. Couldn't even give it back to her if I wanted to.

I think he owes that chick like $1000 or something.

I felt bad for her, but fuck if I'm going to pay her for it.

Lesson time folks:

What is the debu_mantra? Dodged a motherfucking bullet. It's 91,348,103,948 times better to be alone for the rest of your life than stay in a relationship built on lies. Listen to your first instincts about someone also, because usually you are correct!

Never. Again. Never. For the Debster.

*thank God some of my badass girls came out that night as that was about the only thing that saved me.

Posted by debutaunt at June 15, 2005 12:43 PM