Ring Bling

(*Again, written about a week ago and not posted. Not nice, blogger.)

Long Duk Dong: Go away! I call F.I.B. I call police! Go away!
Jake: Open the door.
Long Duk Dong: No way, Jose!
Jake: Open the door.
Long Duk Dong: You beat up my face.
Jake: You grabbed my nuts.
Long Duk Dong: [looks through frosted glass on door] Is that you?
Jake: Yeah, that me.
Long Duk Dong: [opens door] Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you my new - new-style American girlfriend.
Jake: Forget it, man. Just get Samantha, all right?
Long Duk Dong: She not here.
Jake: Don't jerk me around, man. Where is she?
Long Duk Dong: She got married.
Jake: What?
Long Duk Dong: She at the church. She getting married to oily bohunk.
Jake: Married?
Long Duk Dong: Married.
Jake: Married?
Long Duk Dong: Yeah. Married
[closes door]
Jake: [turns around, under breath to himself] Married?
Long Duk Dong: Married! Jeez.

Yeah. About like that is how I feel. And the strange thing about wearing my ring around, is that somehow people like to think that now my relationship is their business.

Example, stopping into a falafel place to grab some quick sustenance in the midst of a crazy day.
Nice falafel guy: (pointing at my ring) Oh, you're married! Where's your husband?

Now, I understand he was probably being nice and making conversation. But really? Did I just ask you how your girlfriend or your mom was, person-I've-never-met-before-30seconds-ago? I do love my guy, and we are making our love public, but ring does not equal free pass to interrogate. Throw this on top of adjusting to a very strange concept of being married... and you may not want to be the next person to ask me about my ring/husband/wedding/marrriage, or you might be forced to endure a long quandry on the cultural significance of the ring and social norms around it. Just warning ya.