Five to Seven Minutes

Every four to six months I have to (slash get to) visit jewelry stores. This month it is definitely "have to." I get my jewelry cleaned and checked so that if a stone ever falls out the store will replace it free of charge. Plus it looks so pretty after it's been cleaned.

Today it was not so fun. I had to go to a new jewelry store that the jeweler in Nati recommended where they wanted the bracelet we bought there checked. I should have known it would be difficult when the sign on the huge two story building said "Largest Selection of Engagement Rings!" with a 10 foot engagement ring logo behind it.

I park, and walk in, cranky and exhausted (basically status quo lately) and am greeted by a super perky woman standing at a podium dressed in some sort of Hawaiian theme clothing, "Welcome back to Robbins' Jewelers!!! How can I help you?!?" Oh my goodness. "I just want my bracelet checked." She ushers me efficiently to Customer Service where they whisk off my bracelet and check my paper work. "It will take about five to seven minutes. Feel free to look around or wait in the lounge!" Okay.

I choose incorrectly and wander around. The sign didn't lie. There are hundreds if not thousands of styles of engagement rings. I like the ones with the round diamonds and pattern on the bands. There is a couple getting married in three weeks just picking up her engagement ring. She is afraid to touch it is so beautiful. Two of the clerks are ooing and ahing and encouraging her to wear it, assuring her that it can be cleaned before the wedding and look just as good as it does now.

There is a couple where the woman is much younger than the man and you can tell that he worships the ground she walks on.

There's a couple casually affectionate with each other, supporting the notion that marriage happens in the days and years before and after the wedding more than it does on the actual day.

And there are others. Only happy couples. Seriously. I am surrounded by happy couples and perky saleswoman dressed in variations of Hawaiian print.

I want to be happy for them, but I catch myself almost crying as I am only about a third of the way through the huge displays of rings. I hurry up back to the front and lift up my head and try to think of something else. Five to seven minutes can't pass soon enough.

As I'm waiting, one of the sales women offers me, "water, soda, or tea?!?" Last thing I had to drink was hours ago when I snuck five seconds away from work and ducked into the "Nourishment Room" for a Styrofoam cup of fruit punch gatorade (which I don't like) and graham crackers and one of the little cups of peanut butter that has so many preservatives in it that it doesn't need to be refrigerated. That was lunch. So, "Yes, I'd love some water." She brings me a bottle promptly. "Let me know if you'd like anything else!" She emphasized the "anything" and looks me right in the eye genuinely.

I can hardly even take normal human kindness at this point. And it takes lots of effort to respond with even a fraction of the courtesy they show me. This is not natural for me. Fortunately, I am naturally nice enough that it is default behavior most of the time, even when I am tired. But now I know there comes a point of exhaustion where even that leaves and I just become flat and functional and robotic. I don't like it much at all.

At last the five to seven minutes are up and I get my bracelet returned to me approved and sparkling clean. "Can we do anything else for you?!?" "Not today," I smile back and try to muster some emotion. Problem is, it might be tears again, so I can't let it get too deep, not knowing what will pop up.