The Ring

It's that time of year again, you know where I get really in to my Fitness in some last ditch effort to look good in a swimming suit because it's too late in the season to even be wearing one. 

So I joined a Pilates studio near to my work and I've been going pretty religiously (as is my custom when jumping on bandwagons) and then at some point (as is my custom when jumping on bandwagons) I'll just quit and spend three months laying in bed watching and rewatching My So-Called Life and Keeping up Appearances.

Anyway, the point of this story is that on Thursdays I take a class called Barre which employs the ballet barre and also straps hung from the ceiling that can be used for all sorts of horrible strengthening exercises. Here's a couple pics of what it looks like:

Stolen from wellandgoodnyc.com

Stolen from fitnessnycblog.com

During the above exercise where you have to grip the handles of the straps, one of my rings was digging into my hand. Not wanting to disturb the class by walking over to my water bottle to put it down, I took it off and sort of lightly tossed it. It rolled across the room and stopped about three feet from where I intended and I made a note to grab it later. There were only six of us in class and we were all facing each other and so I assumed that everybody saw it and understood. 

After class, I could sort of hear some people talking about something (the music is SO LOUD it's really hard to hear anything) and here's what they were saying

"Well it was so big I just couldn't imagine who it belonged to."

"I saw it rolling by earlier too...so gigantic!"

"I walked past it...not sure if it's some man's?"

"But there's no man in here..."

And then I walked into this conversation totally late and totally ignorant going, "has anybody seen my ring?"

And then it was handed to me by a woman who said, "what FINGER do you wear that on?"