I need a little help here, folks. Valentine’s Day has already come and gone, but it’s left me in a bit of a quandary. This isn’t an event Herself and I normally celebrate with a lot of folderol and fiddle-dee-dee. A nice card, a special hug, a decent bottle of plonk with dinner… that usually does the trick. Something chocolate, or a modest floral arrangement, might make an appearance. Frilly undergarments? Not so much.
This year, it seemed like time to break the mold. Change things up, if you get my drift.
Okay, it wasn’t a sudden surge of romantic zeal that’s motivated me to think that way. More like a dose of low-grade guilt.
To be honest, I haven’t been much fun to live with recently. A bit uncommunicative. A little distracted betimes. Perhaps not a total jerk, but not the most attentive spouse. Maybe the calendar could come to my rescue. What better occasion to spark up the old flame? Problem is, I’m a dud when it comes to the Grand Romantic Gesture. I simply lack the imagination for the task.
Never have I whisked a partner off to Paris for a breakfast of Champagne and truffles. Never have I secretly booked a twilight flight for two in a hot air balloon, or paid a scalper’s ransom for tickets to a Stones concert in Seattle.
Besides my want of imagination, my ability to observe and make connections also seems blunted.
I can wander past racks of Hermès scarves without ever thinking, “Oh, yeah, she mentioned just the other day that she needs an amusing little neck warmer.”
I could be locked for hours in a vault full of Cartier baubles without noticing a single sparkle, or musing about how perfectly that particular piece would adorn Milady’s delicate wrist.
Even on the rare occasion that I’m able stretch my imagination, my wallet refuses to comply.
Others in the family (by whom, I obviously mean Herself) are brilliant at finding precisely the right thing for the right person on the right occasion.
Christmas, birthday, anniversary, whatever: she’s on top of it months ahead, with the taste that can turn a $5 gag gift into a priceless treasure.
But I was determined to set things to rights. This Valentine’s Day, I decided to aim for the heights, and cost was no object.
A few days before the big event, I got wind of an adorable little gift-thingy I was certain would catch her fancy.
It was a snappy little electric roadster, the same cherry red as some of her favourite kitchen appliances. And I knew just where to find it… give or take a few million kilometres.
I texted the current owner what I’m sure was a reasonable “as is, where is” offer. I expect to hear back any moment now.
Here’s where you come in. How’d you like to help me arrange delivery to Geezerville?