L Is For The Way I Steal Credit For The Flowers Your Boyfriend Sent You

"That which we call a rose our own
would smell as sweet."
--Modified Shakespeare

Today marked the annual day of wine and roses for some. For others, a day of solitude and Home Shopping Network.

Below is a transcript from a conversation displaying my effort to spread good will among my female friends and coworkers.

9:49 AM Friend: hola

9:51 AM me: hello blissful lady

did you get my flowers?

9:52 AM Puzzled Friend: no but i did get flowers from jimmie john

me: i signed them jimmie john

;)

Former Friend: are you joking?

me: yes

sorry

Paranoid Friend: ok you scared me for a second

because i called him but left a message

scared as in that i just thanked him already for the flowers

me: apparently taking credit for flowers others sent isnt as funny as i thought

9:53 AM Semi-Relieved Friend: and then it would be awkward if he didn't really send them

me: it would

9:54 AM Friend: phew you just gave me an adrenalin rush of panic!

9:55 AM me: sorry

Note the effect I have on women: paranoia, fear, anxiety, panic. Discuss.

It all started when I went in to work today. One of the receptionists had a pot of tulips on her desk. "Good morning," I said to her. "I see you got my flowers."

And so it began.

There haven't been many Feb. 14s where I've been swooning as I am prone to do.

The following true story may appear in a Lifetime movie years from now.

One of my first Valentine's efforts was in the first or second grade. I was smitten with a girl. Taking a crack at love, I decided to make her a special Valentine. To go above and beyond the standard glossy cardboard with perforated edges and the latest cartoon character. So with my mom's help, I made a Valentine that would make even the coldest heart melt.

I went to school, probably wearing red, to deliver my token of affection. When I got to class, my amore wasn't there. As I would later find out, she was home (love) sick. In deep despair I didn't know what to do.

Returning home distraught, my mom again came to the rescue. We looked up her address in the school directory and drove to my crush's house. We were there in the driveway. I couldn't do it. I was too shy. I couldn't seal the deal and deliver my special Valentine to my potential childhood sweetheart. Did we turn around and drive back home? Nope. My mom wouldn't let my bashfulness get in the way of this, now, myth-caliber Valentine. In a display of true love, she went to deliver it for me.

Did me and my childhood cherie skip off into the sunset to live a life of bliss? Not quite. But a few years later I did get a special Valentine from her.

Love is a funny, yet many a splendored thing.


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Listening to: Diana Ross & the Supremes - You Can't Hurry Love
via FoxyTunes