Promise me that ain't no promise ring.

11:08 AM

Image credit: Jay 
Yo.

I am finally making time to read the bestseller (and all-the-rage scribe according to several real--not just reality stars!--celebs) "I'm Judging You: The Do-Better Manual", by Luvvie Ajayi, a self-proclaimed side-eye sorceress whose Facebook Page has me in stitches all the damn time. I knew she wouldn't let my eyes down with her literal read! She's the young friend in my head who keeps me somewhat cool.

My daughter, now 18, does this as well. But where dawta stops -- because I guess it could become exhausting being the only child and sole provider of cool tutorials -- Luvvie begins.

The young talent sure as hell came through in her latest, and I ain't even finished yet! So let's not call this blog entry a book review. It's more of a "yo lemme touch on something she wrote for a minute, before I get back to my tablet."

Here it goes: who the hell is still doing promise RANGS?!

I used to think a promise ring  -- a symbol of "I want you to be with me and only me, BUT, I don't want to marry just yet, so here is something to hold you over in the meantime!" -- was something cute for those hopeless under-18 lovebirds who cannot legally marry in their respective states of the Union. Nah man, there are adults guilty of this.

A damn 'dults.

Promise rings are pointless when you're grown. I mean, if you're wanting to get married, an engagement is the way to show this to the general public. Yes? Then why promise it with a promise RANG? For those who are fortunate to have no idea what I'm even referring to, imagine saving up for a cash-paid-for car. You've put blood,sweat and tears into telling the banks eff you I got cash! For months you've RSVPed "no" to all the events you've actually wanted to attend. You've let the good channels go on DirecTV. Ramen is a delicacy.

With all the money saved, you feel the time to walk down the used car lot has come. (you know where I'm going with this). You are ready to make that commitment. You swear you are ready. Already planning your first trip, the "honeymoon". Already thinking about doing something cute to the interior. "Dammit, it's about time!" you're probably thinking.

With hopes high, you get greeted at the lot with a Hot Wheels toy car. Which is designed in the same model as the car you have been saving up for. Because the dealership wants to put you into a car, just not now, for whatever reason.

While the ADULT response would be "we cannot put you into this particular car," the punk way (and the"take-this-and-go'on" way) would be to hand you the toy car.

I know, makes no sense.

But apparently, many women are okay with this. I knew one who bragged about receiving one from her...um..boyfriend/not-yet-fiance/dude. She was clowned for it. I wouldn't tell a soul about getting a promise ring if I were her, but that's just me. And she's pretty basic.

I don't know if they ever got married...

Promise rings are like those consolation prizes that you'd smile on camera for, during a taping of an old 80s game show. Because rolling your eyes would be in poor taste. What is the damn point of a year's supply of Meow Mix if you have massive cat allergies? And what is the damn point of a promise ring when you're old enough to marry, get engaged or just shack up?

Seriously, please let me know the point of it all.

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