Now, before you start, let me just point some things out:
- I wasn't feeling guilty about anything
- I didn't need to apologise for something
- I wasn't going to beg her for a threesome
- I wasn't trying to butter her up (see above)
I just thought it would be nice and would make her happy.
So I pulled up at an florist - one of those big ones which also sells petrol, charcoal briquettes and porn - and had a look round. I spotted a beautiful bunch of 8 pink roses. Pink roses symbolise appreciation and gratitude. I thought that these would be a nice way of showing I care.
(Plus all the others were wilting and these ones were only four quid.)
Done.
I lay them carefully across the passenger seat next to me so I could make sure they would be protected for the drive home. The journey takes an hour, which coincidentally was just enough time to pick off almost 50% of the price sticker on the plastic wrapping (don't get me started on stickers that don't come off without a fight...). I got the top layer off, with all the writing & the price printed on it - but was left with an ugly, almost square, sticky white patch on the plastic.
It'll have to do.
When I got to Sarah's road, I pulled over for a minute to practice something Hugh Grant-y to say, then parked outside hers.
She opened the door and I humbly presented the roses to her.
Her face lit up & she gave me a you're-a-fantastic-boyfriend hug.
"Aw, you even got me the easy-to-look-after ones - thank you"
Hey - extra points for me without even trying. I AM the best.
I was just about to ask what she meant when I registered that there was a bead of water on the petals on the middle rose which had been in exactly the same position when I first picked up the flowers. The flowers which, come to think of it, looked perfect, almost unreal...
I managed to buy plastic flowers without noticing.
Bollocks.
Oh well. At least these ones should last longer.
I still reckon she could kill them though...
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