The Ring’s the Thing
I managed to find my ring, which had somehow or other worked its way into the blanket folded at the foot of the bed. We haven’t used the blanket since the weather got warm, so I’ve no idea how it got there. I am beginning to suspect that perhaps I am getting more exercise in my sleep than I realized.
Of course, with the ring being missing, I hadn’t worn it for a few days. It was bizarre, like being undercover. One interesting result of that was I discovered that I’ve been married for so long that I can no longer figure out whether or not someone’s flirting with me. At the gym last night, this guy about my age started chatting with me between sets; innocuous gym-type conversation about working out, but he was smiling and making eye contact a lot. It took me about twenty minutes to realize that there was an outside chance he’d been trying to pick me up. I still have no idea, and I am kind of annoyed that the thought occurred to me at all. I mean, I’ll start friendly conversations with people in line at the grocery store, or in the locker room at the gym, or just about anywhere, really. I don’t have any ulterior motives, other than I enjoy talking to people. So, why am I assuming that anyone else is different? Did he even notice that I didn’t have a ring on, and why the hell does it matter anyway?
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