With A Bit Of Work, My Career Options Could Be More Lucrative Than Legal-Part 2

E-mail this post

Remember me (?)

All personal information that you provide here will be governed by the Privacy Policy of Blogger.com. More...

On the drive over to the flowers shop, it was filled with casual idle chatter, but there were painfully pregnant pauses. I also sat there, wilting my linen outifit, because I hate adjusting other people's car enviroments. His car smelled of mildew and I was about to crawl out of my skin. I couldn't have felt more uncomfortable if I was on a date with a child molester.

We walk into the store and it is barren. Empty. A few bedraggled boquets droop pitifully in the fridge and there were your obligitory tight little boquets in vases that you might take to your adopted step-mother who beat and starved you.

As we walk into the flower shop, I begin to get more uncomfortable. A guy is supposed to get the flowers without you, just like he would go ring shopping or gift shopping. This is his opportunity to show how much he cares and how much he wants to spend.

So. He asks me what kind of flowers I want. I decided to be easy on him. I spot a a few tulips banded together in the guise of the word boquet. In inform him tulips would be fine. After figuring out what tulips are, he pulls them out of the cooler. They look worse up close. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Let's see, in the face of choosing between dying tulips and seeding dandilions from the side of the road, this once, I'll take the tulips.

He purchases the tulips. Twenty dollars. I waited five months for these flowers. He didn't even drive them down as the bet specified.

At this point, I start rapidly texting my sisters. CALL ME!

Sister #1 calls, of course, he can only hear my end.

S: Hey! That bad, eh?

Me: Hey...

Me: OMG! STITCHES? COMA? *crying pathetically*

S: So, are you coming home?

Me: Well... I wouldn't want to desert this poor guy...

Me: Is she going to be okay? Is the family there? Is she going to die?

I hang up.

I explain that my stepmother "fell while gardening", has a concussion, is getting twenty to thirty stitches and is not responding. I sob pitifully. Before he has a chance to comfort me

Sister # 2 calls:

S: Hey!

Me: OMG! Did you hear what happened to Teresa?

S: No...

I repeat the story.

S: So, are you coming home?

Me: I would hate to desert this guy after he has waited all this time to go out with me, but, *hiccup* I don't want to be gone if she dies...

She has no idea I just made this up, so I blubber something about "calling Joy for details".

I get off the phone.

I apologize for rudely answering both phone calls, but say that I knew it would be a family emergency if my sister were going to disturb me on a date.

He assures me that he understands and reaches out to pat my leg comfortingly. I carefully peel his fingers off my leg and drop them back in his lap. I spend the rest of the ride back to my car inserting morbid statements like "Right before Mother's Day!" inbetween sniffles and upon seeing something that reminded me of her I would start wimpering again and make the sentimental connection aloud for him.

I finally got back to my car where I made that two hour drive in much less time.

I got to the family dinner where they were eagerly awaiting my tale. Even though I disagreed when they all tried to convince me to pursue a career in drama, it was agreed that the flowers were very sad. Paticularly after waiting five months. I gave them to my granny.

For those of you who will crucify me, I simply want to say there is nothing worse than wasted potential.

0 Responses to “With A Bit Of Work, My Career Options Could Be More Lucrative Than Legal-Part 2”

Leave a Reply

      Convert to boldConvert to italicConvert to link


This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


ATOM 0.3