It is my firm belief that Valentine's Day has been put on the calendar so guys like me can mess up. I try to be attentive, but not clingy; dutiful but not sycophantic; caring but not overbearing; funny, but not glib; a sensitive guy, but not a eunuch-like wuss. You get the picture. Then comes V'day ...
"She-Who-Visits" is coming for a visit! Soon! I'm overjoyed! I miss her so much! We've been so much more connected during these past four months. We've had our sweet emails, wonderful telephone chats, and our lovely book club. She recently got a new job on Island Paradise, an idyllic atoll which is far enough away that it can seem a world apart. But it is a place I personally know a little and actually have a major connection with. She left her dream job - the one that took her there - for an office job - a thing she left the New York rat race to escape. Although she likes it, it has stressed her some. And if I'm really honest, she's told me she worked for Company X, but all I heard was she was the high powered assistant to a very successful person who she seems to like very much.
So today my cellphone goes off and it's her! I'm sooooo happy she's called. "It's the end of my work day." she says, sounding tired. "You sound so tired." I say, sounding concerned, but not overbearing. "It's the end of the work week, it's Friday!" I say cheerfully, but sincerely. "Yes, and where are my Valentine flowers?" she rasps.
I'm floored. "But I don't have an address." I say lamely. "Well, it's the only Company X on the island!" she counters. "I'm ... I'm ... I'm ... sorry?" I shoulda, coulda, woulda ... blah, blah, blah. "You're sorry?? Well wallow in it! I have to go back to work." Line is dead.
I immediately google Company X and plain as day there's the address. I google flowers on Island Paradise and find a flower store that tells me they'll deliver in under an hour. I place the order and feverishly text her to please not end her work week for an hour. I call.
"Yes, what now?"
"I ordered flowers, they'll be there in under an hour."
"I'm meeting a friend for a run. Cancel them. I'll talk to you this weekend." Line is dead. God, I hate to disappoint her.
Aarkey did a post awhile back about guys going to the Doghouse. Help!! I'm in the doghouse. Try as I might, I never can stay out of the damn place. And that, dear reader, is why Valentine's Day sucks. It's on the calendar just so guys like me can mess up. I had planned a heartfelt, well-phrased, V'day e-love letter. Which I sent her. Along with a PS and a link to the Doghouse video.
What the hell. Every man in the doghouse is innocent. Hey, work on the folding Advo! And tonight, it's quiche and chai latte. Again.
And Domina mine, I just wanna be your dog.
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