She's wearing a Used Car on her hand?

Well, it's not exactly a used car, but you've always seen those women whose engagement rings are more expensive than your car. Two or three carats, total. Shiny and sparkly.... that innate sense of them simultaneously bragging about their spendy fiancé *and* "I'm taken, but don't you wish you could have me"?

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Quite frankly, I think that being a fiancée to my partner is way sexier than girlfriend or wife... just like I thought that Seventeen was way hotter than being either Sixteen or Eighteen. It's the in-between phase where you're old enough to know better but too young to care.
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So my dear love LaMar is delaying the inevitable proposal because he's saving up for a bigger engagement ring. I am struggling to understand why, as a man, he would go in that direction, especially since he hates the aforementioned women who flaunt their rings. He never has a kind word or thought for them, but I wonder if he wants other men to look at me as part of that club - unavailable and taken care of?

Guess when it happens, I'll have to get a hand-truck to wheel around that bad-boy. (the ring, not the man). Ooh... perhaps I should name it? The Hope diamond has a name (isn't it cursed, as well?)...

Yes, I will have to name it. And have it blessed... Oh, I guess that's what the preacher-man is for, right? Now... should it be called Big Lucy or Jim? Or something else entirely?