My Fiance is Cheating on Me

By YourTango

It was a Saturday, and he had a breakfast meeting with work colleagues. Apparently, he had an exciting deal in the works that was worthy of a Saturday morning meeting. I slept in, and met him at Williams-Sonoma to begin our wedding registry. I anticipated that he wasn’t going to take that active a role in the process, but it just felt too lonely to do your wedding registry sans groom. Like a Christmas tree stripped naked of its lights and ornaments sitting on a slush covered curb on December 26. I couldn’t bear the image, so I dragged him along.

 

 

We all know about the gun the stores give you to scan barcodes of the items to include on the registry. The Williams-Sonoma gun is actually slightly complex, so I handed it to Stephen to do the clicking that would proceed my pointing and quantity specifications.

 

It was like taking a banana from a monkey and then giving that monkey a hormone injected genetically mutated banana. Stephen put down the Blackberry that had been monopolizing his attention all day and fondled his new gadget with the affection of a mother handling her newborn.

Things were going pretty smoothly at first. We did a once over through the whole store to confirm that we wanted to keep everything on our registry that I had previously registered for online. Then it was time to start adding new items. I was momentarily tempted by the baking accessories. The cupcake display was mesmerizing. The pastel Pink and green frosting in butter cream swirls reminiscent of dancing and singing cartoon cupcakes they show at the movies to make people go to the concession stand. I was halted by the image of a tipping scale and the haunting screech of my dentist’s drill.

 

I came out of the cupcake fantasy just in time to find Stephen swinging a 19 inch wooden pizza peel like a baseball bat. When I encouraged him to move on, he quickly added two of the pizza peels the registry. Clearly, it was time to exercise some gun control. After asking what he planned to use the pizza peel for, since we don’t have a pizza oven and the length of the wooden apparatus exceeded the physical depth of our kitchen, Stephen replied “I like it. It’s fun”. I seized the gun, let the pizza peel remain, and just took a mental note to remove it from the online registry later.

Gun-less and content to have not one but two massive pizza peels on our registry, Stephen went back to his Blackberry like a baby switching from his bottle to a pacifier. About an hour later, after agonizing over the knives and getting the SKU for the larger turkey roaster, we were about to move on to Crate & Barrel. Stephen looked up from his Blackberry and said, “This is getting exciting”. It was a rare moment of tenderness for me. His excitement was so genuine and sincere. I played right into it wanting to hear more as asked “You’re excited about the wedding?”

 

In his reply, I finally accepted that the other lifelong companion in his world would never be a thing of the past. The gleam in his eyes didn’t fade when he clung to his Blackberry, thumbs still in typing position and said, “No. This deal is really blowing up. It’s gonna be amazing. We could make so much money.”

 

I may have lost that Blackberry battle, but at least I wasn’t a barren Christmas tree wandering the aisles of Williams-Sonoma alone that day.