In recent years, I have developed quite the gift for destroying a relationship shortly before Valentines Day, as such, you can imagine my feelings when I woke up this morning. In the past, I can happily claim the joy I’ve taken in indulging in this, the most
romantic …revolting of holidays.
I’ve always taken the time to prepare carefully for Valentines Day, custom hand picked bouquets of flowers, gifts, beds covered in rose petals, romantic meals, perhaps made by myself, perhaps at a restaurant. Well, with this being another year where I appear single on this day I had resigned myself with the statement, “Fuck girls! Fuck them all!” (Ironically, this also remains one of my life goals).
As you can imagine, I prepared myself for the day this morning in depression and preemptive disgust at the romantic events I would no doubt witness throughout the day. I showered and I dressed and put loud music in my ear and opened my door, my path was blocked!
I observed in front of me something I instantly recognised, a box. No not just any box but a delivery box for flowers! Sitting just outside my door was a large box of flowers! Dismissing the oddity of someone giving a man some flowers, all my feelings of disgust and depression melted away, some secret admirer had bought ME flowers for valentines day.
Or were they a secret admirer? Perhaps not, I leaned over to investigate the label, perhaps a return address, that’s when I saw it, there, written under the field of Recipient… my flatmate’s name. The delivery guy had put the box outside the wrong door.