This weekend I discovered the magic of flowers. You’re going to think I’m a loser after this, but let me explain anyway.

On Thursday I was politely informed that I was somehow negligent in my duties as a male human being. She said that she would be happy, nay, thrilled, to receive flowers from me, flowers of any kind, even if they were ugly or perhaps dead. I contended that she wouldn’t actually be happy to have dead flowers arrive on her doorstep, but she contested that she would. She said in no uncertain terms that she didn’t care if they were pretty flowers, she just wanted me to get them for her. I brought up the fact that I was pondering the occurrence of such an event but was still working on the details, such as what shop to order from, what kind of flower to get, how many of said flower or whether it should rather be a variegation, and the delivery time because I didn’t know if it was okay for them to arrive when she wasn’t home.

She has said before that I have a habit of criminally overthinking and overanalyzing things, and I have said before that I have a habit of overengineering things. It is for these reasons that I was shocked and amazed when she suggested that I simply “stop by the grocery store, pick some up, and bring them with you when you come to get me.” Could it really be that easy, I asked myself, Is it actually that simple?

My friends, I am here to tell you today that it is. On Friday when I went to pick her up, I first stopped at the grocery store and bought a small arrangement that seemed to me to be within the realm of what girls call “pretty” (obviously, being a guy, I had no idea, so I applied my powerful brain to the situation and came up with a respectable answer). Then, upon arrival at her domicile, I presented them to her. My memory breaks down at this point in the story, but I do remember a lot of smiling and other associated activity. All three of her roommates were located within the immediate area and they all came to see, like some sort of outing to a carnival. What I learned there is that flowers are not just enjoyed by The Girl, they are enjoyed by all the girls. Apparently, they also serve as some kind of reminder, and bring happiness throughout the lifetime of the flowers (and probably beyond – she has some roses in her room that have been there since she moved in which, although quite dead by now, she still likes).

I think the moral of this story is clear, and I only hope that you, dear reader, may benefit from the knowledge as handily as I have.

— Skankin’ Hankins

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 27th, 2005 at 4:08 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.