© 2013 Aaron Atkinson

The Carat Quandary

I was in the office of tenured female coworker today when an equally tenured male coworker came in for help…

Ken: I just got married and I need help picking out a ring.

Barbie: You’ve come to the right place!

They talked cut and clarity for a few minutes. Then they got to carats. An onlooker may have described an angel (me) on one shoulder and a devil (Barbie) on the other.

Barbie: Ken, you’re 52. You’re not a spring chicken anymore. You need to pony up and buy her a big rock.

Me: Ken, here’s where you came to the wrong place for advice.

Ken: How big?

Barbie: At least two carats.

Me: You don’t need to buy a two carat ring. A carat and a quarter will do just fine – that’s bigger than average.

Barbie: She’s gonna expect at least two.

Me: No she’s not. If she’s 52 too, she’s mature and reasonable. She’ll know fully well that big diamonds are for young, starry-eyed fools.

Barbie: How old is she anyway, Ken?

Ken: I can’t tell you that.

Me: Ken, I’ll amend my previously offered advice with this caveat… You’re 52. If your lovely, new bride is 25 then Barbie’s right, go for two carats.


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