The Ring

My engagement ring has always been a point of contention in my marriage. The ring itself is beautiful but certain circumstances have always caused discussion.

A few nights ago while at a hotel in Bucharest I took off my rings to get ready for bed.

Then it happened. My engagement ring slipped out of my hands while in the bathroom. Like the ball in a pinball machine, it bounced around clinking and clanking. I watched its movements almost as if slow motion before I finally saw it fall down the drain.

I gasped, and I think it was one of the few times when I actually gasped out loud. I stared down at the drain as if my mind could magically make the ring float back up.

I then ran into the bedroom and started frantically explaining to Cornel what happened. He called down to the front desk while I feverishly tried to fashion a hook out of a metal coat hanger. In my desperation I must have thought I turned into McGyver.

The front dest called saying that at that late hour there was no maintenance personnel available but that they would send the concierge. Perfect. If he couldn't recover my ring at least he could book my reservation in the looney bin.

Cornel kept trying the coat hanger hook to no avail. Maybe if I would have put some chewing gum on the end I might have been more successful.

The concierge finally arrived in his suit and proceeded to put on yellow rubber gloves. They snapped like surgeon gloves snap before an operation. It was too much to bear, so I went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Within minutes Cornel came back with my ring in hand (no pun intended). The concierge had even been nice enough to wash it off for me. That is what you call four star service! He totally deserved the tip Cornel handed him.

We disposed of the hook and continued with our night. Cornel made a joke that at least it was the ring that I "didn't like". Touché.