ring-a-ding-ding

At a mind-numbingly dull work event last week, I stood behind a table trying to imagine myself elsewhere - at the DMV, in a jazzercise class, on a date with a cat-o-nine-tails - anywhere but facing more hours upon end of standing up in heels and pretending to be genial.

So I suppose it's conceivable that my features weren't in a well-composed fake smile while a prematurely balding middle-aged prick chatted up my associate by telling her how lovely and charming her smile was. And it's conceivable that when he turned to me, that the expression on my face was rather bland. What is not conceivable is that he actually said to me, "You know, that look on your face is why you don't have a ring on your finger." And though I held my composure, I imagined a throat-punch with this kind of ring would be rather satisfying.

How bout this diamond ring, asshat?