She Gotta Put a Ring On It...

Lately, with increasing frequency, I've been asked at work if I'm married. At first I thought it was just that the new town I work in was trying to get to know me, but now it's starting to feel, um, maybe a little.... invasive.

Set scene: One morning at work earlier this week. A customer of mine walks up to the counter to pick up his asthma medicine.

Sir: "Do you sell a lot of this stuff? It works miracles. I live on a farm and it gets dusty."

Me: "Oh yes I know, I live on a farm as well."

Sir: "Where at?"

Me: "Just outside Dizzle."

Sir: "Are you married?"

Me: "No." I chose not to elaborate.

Then we talked about a recent passing of a gentleman who lived closer to me, but had family in Mayberry. Then randomly...

Sir: "Are you married?"

Me: "No."

Sir: "Any prospects?"

Me (with head down): "No."

Sir: "I have a son...."

SIR YOU ARE 85 YEARS OLD! YOUR SON IS OLDER THAN MY FATHER. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Although it might not be a bad fit considering it's 3:30am and I'm awake because I was woke up by a fit of heartburn.