Monday, April 21, 2014

CRAIG EDWARD KELSO, Flowers for Myra

 *FLASHBACK to a few months back. 

Sons-a-bitches, I wanted to surprise my gal with flowers on her birthday. 

CALLED TWO DAYS AHEAD, gave meticulous directions, and repeated myself SEVERAL times, asking the phone-note-taker-downer repeat what I requested. Again, I repeated these steps MANY times. 

Look, I don't have any money. Like not even a little. Everything I have comes down to scraps and crumbs.It took me forever to save for her gift, making sure I cobbled away all I could. And I really don't do this, so I wanted the experience for my honey to be perfect for a bunch of reasons. Plus, she deserves perfection. Seriously.  

Fucker at the florist answering service, of course, answered, Yes, sir! at every turn. 

Because I live in the real world, and because the United States is officially under the haze of its gross compulsory public schooling system, I decided to call juuuuuuuuuuuuuust to make sure. 

Oh, are you sitting down?

Babe at the florist the next day answers, Um, yeah, we didn’t get ANY of those directions, sir

A few FUCKS and IAMGOINGTOKILLEVERYLASTONEOFYOUs later, poor babe at the florist decides to problem solve. 

Hahahahaha, okay, okay. I will arrange and bring them to her right now! she assures.

My honey is set to leave work at X time, and X time is fast approaching. I call the florist again, confirming the delivery. I thank the florist babe, and I call my honey’s workplace.

Secretary at honey’s employer informs me, Oh yes, I am looking at the bouquet right now.

Adding this secretary to my homicidal hit-list, I inform her, HOW ON EARTH IS MY HONEY GOING TO GET THEM IF THEY’RE SITTING ON YOUR DESK? SHE IS GOING TO LEAVE!

Mind you, they’d been there for AN HOUR, and had I not called, my honey would’ve left, home, sans flowery love symbol. It's her birthday TODAY. Now. Fuck. And I wanted my honey to have to carry them all the way home, reminding her how wonderful I am. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Honey does indeed get them, finally, and on time, but not without a fucking novella of activity behind the scenes to make it happen. 

Had she not, … there would’ve been blood. 

Is everyone in the United States a fucking imbecile?

 Thank you, and good night.

And I mean it.

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