“I see you were waiting for me,” a tall, slightly graying and well built man says.
“Yes” I smile, without hesitation. What I don’t say is…All My Life…while he lifts my 30lb carry-on into to overhead bin and sits down in the seat next to me.
Fifteen minutes into our conversation of why I am on my way to Indianapolis and finding out that he lives maybe 10 or so minutes from my family, his wife calls and asks him to pick up kid’s Tylenol on his way home and he responds “does Brian have a fever and did Molly go to school?”
Earlier on I had looked down at his finger. No wedding band, no white faded line, no sign that there was a significant other, but here we were with 2 sniffing kids. Okay, you all know that I may watch too many Nora Ephron movies. I also believe in the serendipity of meeting a mate (for life) on a plane–with the help of a cousin who has done so and some girlfriends who inspire me by insisting–“when flying, lose the sweatpants and wear some blush.” Adding, “guys do travel for business a lot.”
The letdown is huge when you find out that none of these guys seem to be single, straight or available. Sure this has happened to me before, and no, not only on planes. But there is something about the altitude at 35,000 feet, when I am seated in 8D and 8C is finally (after 22 previous flights) a steamy green-eyed man that doesn’t take up both my seat and his, that isn’t dropping guacamole or pasta sauce on either of us and doesn’t wind up falling asleep and drooling on me. Then… somewhere into sharing our abridged life stories, favorite movies and handing him his drink, I find out that his wife’s name is Sarah and I wind up giving him advice on jewelry for her.
On the way home from Indy, I counted all the guys left fingers with wedding bands and I am telling you there were way too few of them, even with my limited mathematical abilities for 32 rows deep and 3 and 2 rows across.
While I know my readership is primarily women, except for my guy friends and writers, (thank you for reading, btw)…I am asking you all to pass this along. I am instituting a new jewelry rule. Yes, rule!
If you are married and you are a man, it’s your duty to wear a wedding band. It’s that simple. And believe me, I am not one of those woman who like men in bling. Anything that smacks of gold chains, pinky rings, ponytails and pierced ears says mid life crisis, The Real Husbands of New Jersey or rap star wanna-be to me. A cool silver bracelet, maybe a talisman around your neck, cuff links for guys who wears a suit for work and a vintage watch all will bespeak who you are without shouting…and guess what…so should your WEDDING BAND. And, yes, well maybe I was shouting just then.
There are many different materials and styles to be found out there and I suggest that if you aren’t wearing yours because–“it’s not comfortable”, your “finger swelled,” you swelled or got larger…. or you misplaced it and decided to get an iPad instead—go out and invest in a band in your new size. Metals such as stainless steel and platinum are hypo-allergenic and there are cool materials such as Titanium..okay? (see also: bikes and tennis raquets) There are all different widths in the simplest of bands. There are aged looking oxidized styles and those with a subtle motif. Trust me, there is one out there just for you. Check out companies like Benchmark and Unique Settings and designers such as Sarah Graham, Rebecca Overmann and David Heston for Heston Designs and Scott Kay’s SK Colbalt collection.
Before I try and get engagement rings instituted as a custom for men, I would first like to suggest that you males not get on a plane ring-less to distract me from my “happily-ever-after” fantasy…a cute guy with all ten fingers free, and also free to ask me for dinner or drinks…