What’s the problem with a $22 wedding ring?
By: Charles Forman
Tags: Jewelry, Engagement Ring, Marriage

I lost my wedding ring this weekend. I put it in my zippered pocket while I was at the gym. When I was walking home, I pulled out my keys, and it must have flung out on to the mean streets of New York City. I spent a lot of time retracing my steps. But I’m pretty sure it is gone forever.

When I married, I wasn’t too excited about wearing a ring. What’s the point? A beacon to let other women know that I was off limits? I never wore a wedding ring before, and I was able to keep the women away with absolutely no effort.

However, my wife-to-be kindly explained that the ring is a symbol of our everlasting love. It is absolutely required. It is to be worn forever. Any thought otherwise is not only wrong, but will definitely result in, but not limited to, 1 week without sex.

Fine. It is a small price to pay for happiness — mainly my own.

We looked for rings together. Being a lifelong non-jewelry wearer, I knew nothing about rings. From my research, I discovered that a man’s wedding ring is the most simple torus made of various metals depending on how much you love that person. If your love is real, your choices are Gold, White Gold, or Platinum. If your love is less than real, Titanium is a great choice. All other metals are for your marriages on the side, Las Vegas, or teen marriages.

I also learned that where you buy your ring is extremely important. Even though a jewelry retailer doesn’t make any of the jewelry you see there, the experience of buying it is an extremely important part of the process. When you walk into the store, all eyes are on you. They are looking at your posture. What is the quality of your clothing? Do you have the facial bone structure of someone worthy? Is your love real enough to pay retail price?

“I’m looking for a wedding ring.”

“That’s wonderful. What do you do for a living?”

At first, I thought what I do for a living is completely irrelevant, but then I realized there are probably certain jobs where a different type of ring is required —a butcher? a baker? a candlestick maker? Why are these prices four times what they are on the internet?

I think the smaller you feel in a retail jewelry shop, the more meaningful the jewelry is.

I suggest Tiffany’s.

However, if you are a true baller, you walk right into Tiffany & Co wearing a ripped shirt, board shorts, and flip flops. You ask to see the most expensive ring they have. You’ve left your class ring from HarvardPrincetonYale at home, and you’ve forgotten your ring size. No problem. They size your ring finger, and put that overpriced ring on the right meat digit. It’s nice, but you expected something a little nicer. OH NO. Your stomach isn’t feeling so great from all that caviar at lunch. You ask to see the bathroom. As you walk away..

“What was my ring size again?”

Yes, I did think about linking to this image with my Amazon Affiliate ID.

You smile and pick up the pace. Of course! 10.5. 10.5 is the secret number you were looking for. Wow. This bathroom is really nice. What are you thinking!? Now is not the time to marvel at the beauty of a jewelry store bathroom! You are on a mission. You sit down on that fine porcelain bowl. You whip out your phone. If only they could see what’s really going on. What the store clerks didn’t know, is that caviar is not served at Taco Bell. Only 2 bars of cell service. This mission is going to be more difficult than you thought. You enter the code — 10.5. You push hard. Harder than you’ve ever pushed. “Is everything all right in there?” the bathroom attendant asks. It’s coming. One last push. “Confirm Purchase.” You’ve just ordered a $21.95 Tungsten Carbide Wedding Ring size 10.5 on Amazon Prime, while taking the biggest dump of your life. With the second flush, you spring the extra $3.99 for same day shipping because you are a fucking baller.

And best of all, your love is real.

But that was just a fantasy. Because I did, in fact, buy the Platinum ring for hundreds of dollars. And now it’s lost.

When I first got the ring, I thought it was actually pretty cool. It was pretty shiny. It was perfect. I could see my reflection in it. I dangled my fingers extra flashy as I received the change for my celebratory Taco Bell meal. The indifferent cashier was now extra indifferent as she realized that she could not get with this. I felt great.

The next day, I noticed a scratch. Surely we have the technology to fix this. Maybe some buffing process? 1 week later, it looks like it’s been scraped on the ground. Observing friend’s wedding rings, they don’t look perfect and shiny at all. They look like they’ve been through some small war.

Just for curiosity, I enquired how much one might be able to sell a slightly used, but well loved Platinum wedding ring on the open market. From my limited search, I may be able to recoup as much as 20% of what I paid. If I melt it down, I could sell it for $130.

If the ring isn’t worth much in the first place, why is it important to spend tons of money to some company for a token piece of rareish metal that wraps around a particular finger? It’s stupid.

And so here I sit, on the finest of Tiffany’s colored porcelain.