Sorry, ladies, the suddenly blingless fourth finger of my left hand means nothing at all. Well, nothing except that after three and a half years of marriage we have finally got round to getting our rings engraved. Nothing fancy, just names and the date of the event should either of us ever reach the stage of being unable to remember.
So, for the next fortnight I will have no way of communicating my marital status at a glance, and I will just have to revert to my bachelor habit of fighting off the women who throw themselves at me on a daily basis. Tchah!