Right With the World

Planning ahead more than I usually do, I went to the florist Monday night to pick up some flowers for my valentine. I gulped at the prices. A dozen roses in far-from-perfect condition were going for $60, nicer ones were sold ala carte at $8.50.

I picked a tropical arrangement that won’t wilt quickly---more days for the dollar. The cashier smiled. She said I was one of the few customers who hadn’t complained about the price. For my valentine, nothing’s too good (a phrase that could carry a double meaning, but here any cleverness is unintentional).

The vase was left on a table to surprise her when she came down in the morning. I took the call at work, ready to bask in the plaudits.

“Who sent the flowers?”
Me, who else?
“It could have been my sister, mother, or L.”
Well, it was me.
“I didn’t see a card.”

No card, my fault. Once again, despite my good intentions, another situation where I’m on the defensive. The fate of husbands everywhere.

Later that day I called the youngster on his cell phone and offered a bribe.

I’m taking Mom out to dinner, so I’ll bring home whatever you want to eat.
“The two-meat special at Armadillo Willy’s, Texas ribs and baby-back. I want the corn muffin and the jambalaya as side orders.”
Okay. The kid is disorganized, but not when the subject is food.
“Dad, I forgot to buy anything for Mom. Can you get me a rose?”
Okay. The bribee was in the power position and pressed his advantage. You can pay me back when I get home. A feeble attempt to regain self-respect.

I reached Armadillo Willy’s around seven and ordered the two-meat special. $16 for take-out, especially for a kid, is outrageous. But Valentine’s Day is like April 15th---just get through it and pay up. As I put my credit card back, the girl spotted my triple-A membership. “Next time, show us the card and you’ll get 10% off.” Something positive to take away from the day.


I walked over to BJs Restaurant, the new chain that’s hot with the twenty-somethings. Exotic beer and wide screen TVs appeal to the guys, while a varied upscale menu brings in the gals. I put my name on the list and pocketed the beeper. The wait would be an hour. Perfect. Time to buy a rose, pick up my dinner companion, then return at eight to take our seat.

The BJs beeper started beeping every 20 seconds once I drove out of range. Impatient customers clearly had given up and driven away with beepers before, but BJs did not know about my sound-ignoring ability that is intensely irritating to those, such as my Valentine’s Day dinner companion, who try to carry on a conversation with me. I tuned out the sound and drove to the florist to fulfill my errand.

The youngster's eyes lit up when I walked through door with the rose (allow me the illusion that it was not due to the ribs), and so did his mother’s when he presented her with the rose. Love was in the air, and the remainder of the evening went off without a hitch. The beeper quieted when we got back to the restaurant, and we were seated within ten minutes. A beer, a steak, my valentine seated across from me, and all was right with the world. © 2006 Stephen Yuen