The Good Old Days

It's small.

It's round.

It catches any light that happens upon it and reflects it back in a dazzling display of brilliance.

Once given it remains in place.

Or, at least it should.

This small symbol of love and fidelity adorns many a finger; both male and female.

It's a little band and yet it means so much.

Or, at least it should.

Working out in the big, bad world after so many years at home has left me utterly astonished at the actions of those around me. Oh, I talk a big game, but when it comes right down to it I'm a conservative, shockingly naive at times, woman.

I blush...easily.

The men I work with are a little too friendly at times. I remind them, daily, that I am a married woman. I walk away when the jesting becomes tasteless. I've even gone so far as to tell one "gentleman" (and I use the term loosely) to watch his mouth and not speak to me that way.

He was contrite and embarrassed ...as he very well should be.

There was a time, or at least I like to pretend there was, when that little band of gold on girls finger would protect her from the bawdy jokes of men.

Sometimes I miss working in an all female gym...

I'm not a prude, but I don't feel respected when some dude feels the need to tell me a dirty joke, just to watch me blush. Maybe he's surprised by my reacting since I'm in my forties and have two grown children. I don't know.

I wonder where all the dignity has gone in our society. When did we get to the point that it was acceptable for a man to hit/flirt/ask out an obviously married woman?

It's crazy I tell you!