It was a cold and dreary day in frigid Logan, UT. There was a winter storm advisory out for freezing rain, sleet and icy road conditions. While I would love to be curled up inside with a giant mug of hot chocolate under these conditions, I unfortunately had to work. Apparently I'm a grown up and apparently have to make my own money in order to afford ice cream and other pretty things.
After a long day at the office I was finally ready to head home. Husband and I had date night plans for dinner and a church function, for which I was fully prepared. I had my adorable red pencil skirt, a white blouse and knee high Kenzie brown boots all packed up and ready for wearing.
Husband wanted to wear a suit. Husband had no suits at the house.
He did, however, have two suits being tailored at Mr. Mac. One, that would be ready on the 30th, and one that was ready on the 22nd.
It was the 24th.
Sensibly, I wanted to wait until both suits were finished.
Husband had other ideas.
I looked out my window at the blizzard like ice storm.
I did not want to go to Mr. Mac.
But, as previously mentioned, I am an awesome wife. So I agreed to pick up the suit.
I arrived at Mr. Mac with minimal sliding on the ice and parked my toasty car. I tentatively exited my heated Nissan and headed for the door of Mr. Mac.
From my parking spot the storefront looked nicely shoveled and free of sleet. I finally decided to traverse the dangerous parking lot in pursuit of the apparently clear sidewalk.
I was wrong.
The storefront concrete gave the illusion of solid ground but was in fact sneakily iced over.
I took one step on the curb and my feet went out from under me, cartoon style.
I flew up in the air and landed decidedly hard flat on my back.
I stayed down for whole minute.
Then an old man poked me with his cane and asked me about my rump.
My rump was okay.
After gathering my dignity, I made my way into Mr. Mac.
To be honest I more likely hobbled than walked due to the intense pain radiating from my now wet and throbbing "rump".
I was greeted by an awkward 18 year old with a CTR ring and a LOUD HELLO. I still don't know if his cheerfulness was due to witnessing my admittedly comical fall or if he's just a chipper guy.
I sheepishly thanked him for this overzealous greeting and limped towards the counter, hoping his candor wasn't because of my current condition.
In the course of my limping I happened to glance at my hand.
And I made a terrible realization.
The prongs in my 1.5 year old diamond solitaire ring were split wide open and my hand picked trillion cut diamond was missing.
Then I said a very bad word very loudly. Actually, I yelled it.
And I happened to yell it in the general direction, and somewhat at, the awkward Mr. Mac 18 year old salesman.
He looked very afraid.
I literally ran outside to search for my diamond and tears immediately flooded my eyes.
I threw myself on the ground and started mucking my way through the slush outside.
Unfortunately the ice from earlier was still there and my knees were just as terrible at staying under me as my feet were. I slipped.
I ended up on my belly inches from the sidewalk just crying into the ice and blindly feeling for my ring since I couldn't see a thing through the tears and mascara blurring my vision.
I felt so low I was beyond caring what the random by-passers may have thought about me. One lady honked her horn at me and yelled from her mother SUV to see if I was okay, I ignored her. As she stared at me I simply continued to mourn, possibly more dramatically than warranted.
While I was carrying on outside, the awkward store clerk made his way to the sidewalk without my noticing. Probably because of the ruckus I was making.
He wanted to know why I was blithering on his sidewalk. And he wanted to know if I was okay.
I was barely able to get out my predicament. This portrayal is most likely 100% more clear than what I actually happened to blather out.
I sank lower and lower in my search my the diamond.
I had almost given up. I was curled in a ball on the ice and the sleet when the glorious sales clerk found my diamond.
He is my new best friend.
I couldn't thank him enough for finding the missing piece of wedding ring. We went back into the store, he gave me a little bag to keep the remnants of my broken wedding ring in, and he fetched the suit for me.
I apologized over and over again.
I tried very hard to convince him that I was actually a good person. I even played the church card. Thankfully, I didn't have to lie about church going since I was actually headed in that direction, I doubt he believed me though.
In the end I went away from Mr. Mac with my ring in 2 pieces, a few bruises on my rump and having offended a very sheltered employee.
And, as if the day couldn't get any worse, I received the following text message on my way home:
It was from my mother in law.
Did I mention that I had been on the phone with her immediately prior to entering Mr. Mac?
I was.
Apparently I had pocket dialed her back while verbally accosting18 year old gingers with curse words.
I then had to explain to the future grandmother of my children why I was yelling expletives followed by bouts of snivelling blubber and sleet.
It was an interesting conversation.
And that is the story of how my wedding ring, and the day of a Mr. Mac employee, was ruined.
