Flowers & Assholes

 Flowers.

 I haven't always been a big fan of receiving flowers. I've always said that I would rather get a bag of chips instead of a bouquet. I'm not big into taking care of plants or flowers because I simply don't do it. The inevitable happens; they die and I always feel a little sadness because of it. I always tell Rob that I would prefer if he would just throw out my flowers once they have died so that I don't have to feel bad doing it myself. I know, I'm weird.

 However in the last year, I probably received three or four bundles of flowers and I have enjoyed putting them together in a vase and I've even put some effort into keeping them alive! My opinion on the matter has definitely changed and I bet that as I get older I'll probably become more interested in gardening too. Don't even get me started on gardening.

Pretty Spring flowers.

  Each time that I see someone holding a thoughtfully wrapped bouquet of flowers my mind wanders and I always try to imagine what the story behind them are. As I was driving home from work on Friday I saw a girl driving a big truck with some carnations wrapped on her dash. I immediately thought that they were given to her by her boyfriend that just took her out to dinner. It was their anniversary and the gesture was sort of expected. Then I changed my mind and decided that the flowers weren't for her at all, they were for her lesbian lover. A plea for her forgiveness because she was still in the closet and needed more time to come out. I know! I'm ridiculous, but that's literally how my mind works when it comes to flowers.

 Another time, my curiosity got me into a bit of trouble. I was driving and a man was walking across a crosswalk with a bouquet in hand. I drove by, looking and wondering what the story behind his flowers were. As I passed him, he stopped looked at me and mouthed the words ASSHOLE. Say wha?! This guy was definitely in his sixties maybe close to seventy. I was floored. I was also immediately pissed off. So I parked and decided to meet up with this man in the parking lot to confront his rude accusation. He saw me and started charging towards me. We met in the middle and I exploded, demanding to know why I was an asshole. He said that it didn't seem like I was going to stop at the crosswalk (even though I did) and he thought I was driving too fast. I told him that I was in fact interested in why he had flowers and wondered who they were for, that was all. I also told him that I was NOT an asshole, far from it actually. He apologized for calling me one and I told him that I may have been driving a bit fast. In the end I poked him in the chest and asked; "We good?" He agreed. That is probably one of my favourite stories to tell because I have no idea what came over me that day. I think I was just outraged at the thought of someone thinking that I was a bad person when I was just curious and in wonderland about his pretty flowers. Needless to say; I never did find out why he had those flowers. Perhaps he was taking them home to his wife, for falsely calling her an asshole.

 Do you like receiving flowers or are you like me, and would prefer a bag of candy or chips?!