Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Saved by a fluffy bear

Life is a comedy of errors. Either that or it's a drama gone seriously astray. Just about every aspect of Murphy's Law has kicked in to make the past week an unendurable press of anxiety and modern man's worst fear: I got a cold.

I hate being sick. Worse yet, people hate being around me when I'm sick. I'm no love puppy when I have to hold in a cough or redirect a sneeze.

And, needless to say, the past week has been one of my heavier social weeks. I've been to two dinner parties, passed on dancing at clubs, passed on a strip club (not my biggest disappointment in life by any means), and avoided friends and dance classes like the plague.

Today it all came together in a splash of perfect timing. Remember those flowers I ordered for a special someone? When I showed up for lunch, she didn't say a word. She'd received flowers from 3 people yesterday. Heck, her ex-boyfriend walked in on us with a bouquet of flowers.

We're sitting there, talking, and I'm like wondering, WHERE ARE MY FLOWERS?

So, finally, I said, "Look, I ordered flowers for you."

"Why did you do that? I don't want you to spend money on me! Cancel the order!"


"Cancel it. You don't need to buy me flowers. I got three bouquets yesterday!"

Well, you can see where this is going. I already felt terrible from being sick. Now I was arguing over whether I'm supposed to be sending her flowers.

"Look, just call me when you get the flowers."

"I don't need flowers."

Okay, she doesn't need flowers. You know what? No man believes that. This could be the last day we'll ever see each other. But she'll never forget it if she doesn't get any flowers from me. After all, the ex-boyfriend brought her flowers.

I was really wondering if I picked the right service. You order flowers more than a week in advance, you'd think someone would get the message. I was sure I picked AM delivery, but there I sat, trying vainly to smile and crack jokes and laugh about the fact I was wearing the tie she bought me for Christmas ("You've worn it seven out of the last ten times we've been together!" "You're counting?" "Yes."). And all I could think was, "Where are my friggin' flowers???"

The old man standing on the street corner was getting better service from passers-by who stopped to chat with him while waiting for red lights.

So I deftly changed the subject. "Do they celebrate Valentine's Day in Vietnam?"

"Yes, but the older people don't believe in it. Only the younger people."

"The children?"


"Not the adults?"

"No. But tonight at my father's restaurant, they'll all say 'Anh yeu Em' and 'Em yeu Anh'."

Okay, so the adults don't celebrate Valentine's Day but they make a special point of reserving tables at a nice restaurant so they can say "I love you" on that one special day of the year. But she don't need no stinkin' flowers. No man can navigate these treacherous waters.

"You know what 'Anh yeu Em' means, right, Michael?"

Yeah, I know what it means. You know I know what it means. You'd have known I know what it means if you had just gotten the flowers I ordered.

"Look, just call me when you get the flowers," I said.


"So I'll know you got them."

"Maybe you should cancel the order."



Well, you can see we had a nice romantic lunch. By this point I said my good-byes, watched the ex-boyfriend drive off with an indecipherable smirk on his face, and walked back to my car. I was so steamed I decided I'd stop by my apartment and call the flower delivery service and give them a piece of my mind.

So, I drive back to the apartment, boot up the computer, and just as I'm about to log on my cell phone rings.


Did this day just happen, or am I taking too much cold medicine? At least I was the only one who thought to give her a plushy toy.

Oh yes. The card said, "Anh yeu Em."


Post a Comment

<< Home