Midlife Crisis Part II

     My wedding ring is worn out. It was snug when I got it 18 years ago. Through the years of being fat and pregnant, then just fat, then thin, and then pregnant again (repeat 4 times), and having my ring resized a few times, it's just worn out. This year for Christmas I'm getting my diamond re-set.
     The other day I went to Jared's and was greeted by a round, young man who introduced himself as Alex and offered to take me on a tour of the store. "Just show me where your rings are," I hurried him, "I have a pre-schooler to pick up and my kids will be home from school soon." He looked a little taken aback but invited me to take a seat. Actually, he insisted I sit down before he hand me any jewelry. Apparently, I would have a headstart if I were to suddenly take off with costly jewels and precious metals.
     Alex was okay although he struck me as a little salesman-ish when he called me "sweetie" and "sweetheart." People who call me "Sweetie" are usually 1) my husband 2) old people and 3) people from the South. Alex was none of the above. I'd peg him for late 20-ish.
     The next day my husband and I returned to the store. We motioned to Alex we were there then stood around listening to the crap coming from the sales people on the other side of the glass cases. The store was packed. It felt like a used car lot. I then noticed little rooms off to side. A quiet place to close the deal, I assumed. I started tasting dinner repeat. This may not be pleasant.
     The mood was more pushy this night. Alex maintained his calm demeanor but when he walked away, another salesman walked past. He was looking at the ring I was holding. He suddenly had a story to tell about a woman who had a ring picked out, returned the next day, just in time to watch the ring get sold to someone else. "It happens," he said, a little too eagerly.
     I  had a look of pleasant satisfaction when I told my husband why I liked this ring. The arrangement was symbolic of my family - four small side diamonds for my children, my main diamond for my marriage, and a circle for eternal family. It was an intimate moment when another salesman approached and said, "I see a smile on her face! Do you love the ring? Are you getting it tonight? You know, we have 12 months same-as-cash financing!" Moment ruined.
     By the time Alex returned, I had mastered the poker face. Unbeknownst to him, we were getting the ring but I'd darned if I was going to be pressured into it. Alex then made a huge faux pas.
     In an effort to connect to the customer, he segued in a story about his mother and how I was like her. Oh no he did not. "I'm sorry, Alex, but did you just compare me to your mother?"
    "Well, yeah," he stammered, "but she's really young. She's 43." The sound we all heard was the deflating of my ego. Suspiciously, it sounded like a whoopie cushion.
     We bought the ring then waited for it to be resized. The crowd dwindled then completely died out. The sales facade drooped then dropped right off. We were the last customers in the store. The sales team stood around in a circle, killing time until our ring was finished.  I approached the circle and looked the manager in the eyes. "How old do you think I am?" I challenged him. He swalled once and started with 32. I rolled my eyes.
     "Do I need to write Alex up for something inappropriate?"
     "He compared me to his mother!"
     "In his defense, he is was adopted late in life and his mother really is young. She's like 34, I think."
     "She's 43. He told me. Is she hot?"
     I didn't hear the answer. Something just clicked. Alex. Adopted. Foster care.
     Summer of 1993. I was working as the school counselor for summer school that year. Two brothers in foster care; Eric who was 18 and little Alex, age 12. Alex was small for his age. He had no desire to do summer school. He sat out in the hall and talked to me all summer during the lull of registering students. He was a very sad and hurt little boy. He wanted so badly to be adopted. He cried one day and we talked for a very long time.
     Back to 2009. "Alex, I know you! We're old friends! You have an older brother and you used to come to..."
     "Summer school in the trailers," he finished. "I remember you! You were nice to me. You and a handful of other adults saved my life through kindness."
     My brand new ring was finished about that time. We could finally leave. Quickly, I caught up on Alex, Eric, and what they had survived over the years. I was ambivalent toward Alex the Salesman. But inside Alex the Salesman, I glimpsed that 12 year old boy that I wanted to hug and protect 17 years ago. I hugged that Alex goodbye and whispered, "I am glad you compared me to your mother."
     I feel humbled.