Significance of the gold band.

As I travel quite a bit for my profession, and being the proverbial observer of human nature (or a nosy people watcher as my mother so aptly dubbed me) I am constantly provided opportunities to interact with and thus assess my fellow weary travelers. The experiences are consistently interesting, occasionally dubious, and alternately provide exasperation and humor... As a result of said interactions, one is often reminded how sleep deprivation and extended periods of isolation do not always provide key elements for enlightened conversation or behavior, i.e. sometimes I wonder how people can act the way they do and expect to get away with it??
People assume that traveling for business provides a plethora of opportunities for meeting potential matches, for what could be more glamorous than visiting exciting cities and mingling with other career professionals of like mind?
Well, I have been traveling for business for close to ten years, and I have yet to meet my life partner as a result of this. I have met a lot of yahoos, namely married men who seem to think the right handed band signifies a license to thrill, rather than the lifetime commitment so pledged in the eyes of God, man, and your scowling mother in law.
Just so you know, oh nomad of the skies, looking for some simple minded female who will look past the gold band you obviously consider your shackle, I do respect the significance of the gold, and I do not believe it is your pinky ring thus moved to your fourth finger due to the miraculous weight loss in your right hand. The tan line gives it away. Look for some other fool who feels adultery does not count if it occurs in another zip code. Those same individuals look for guidance on the inside of a bazooka wrapper. For my conscience, hell fire and brimstone trump giving in to carnal desire any day.
Call me crazy, I always wanted my own boyfriend, not someone else’s.
I will end this chapter with a true story. I was recently flying home from a stressful business trip, sitting in the gate area, engrossed in my computer work when a voice piped up above my head. “Are you waiting for the flight to San Diego?” I wanted to say, “No, I just enjoy the delayed wireless internet access the airport provides” or some sarcastic retort, but instead I looked up to my horror into a pair of beady eyes and shimmer of perspiration above a pair of thin lips eagerly peering down my neckline. “Yes, it is.” I did not want to be rude, but right away I could tell this little man, with wedding ring intact and on display, was looking for more than casual business speak, and I was in no mood to pursue this. After five more minutes of inane conversation, I whispered my hail Mary’s and threw into the conversation that I could not wait to “see my husband when I got home.” God will forgive this lie as my intent was to deter this creep with the ill intentions. Still it did not sway his pursuit, and endless series of questions as to where I lived, worked, what show size, car, type of tile grout, you get the gist, endless probing that I was beginning to resent.
Finally divine intervention came in the form of the first class cabin boarding, and the creepy stranger left.
Much to my dismay, twenty minutes later, as I was boarding with the other “sardines” into the last confines of the economy class cabin, the creep was waiting for me at the boarding door, and asked loudly “if I wanted a glass of wine”. I rolled my eyes and kept walking, amazed at the depth at some individuals will stoop in the pursuit of their sex drive.
Adultery is adultery no matter how you slice it, and as for myself, the gold band has as much significance as a red flashing sign at a construction site, “DO NOT ENTER”. And this is one rule I have no problem complying with.