A friend of mine, whom we'll call Kristin, moved to Boston with her boyfriend from college, Jim. After a few years of living together she started hinting around that it was time to make a bigger commitment. So it was that she was very psyched when Jim came back from a two week vacation to Venezuela with a beautiful diamond ring. He asked her to marry him and she said yes. Called up her parents, told them, the whole shebang.
Several days later, Kristin gets a phone call at home. A woman with a heavy Spanish accent asks for Jim. Kristin said he wasn't there, and Miss Spanish Accent asks who she is.
"I'm his girlfriend," said Kristin. "NO!" came back the answer. "I'M his girlfriend."
Turns out, Jim had brought back from South America a diamond ring AND a 17 year old Venezuelan girl he had holed up in a motel down the street.
Jim came home that day to find both women sitting in the living room waiting for him. What he was thinking nobody knows to this day, since Kristin only spoke to him long enough to run outside and throw her new ring into the depths of the Charles river.
Postscript: Jim married the Venezuelan, and Kristin has found someone she adores who's a lot more trustworthy. . .