Saturday, 17 March 2012

The Anonymous Flowers

For some reason women seem to want to get flowers from secret admirers. I cannot express how against them I am. While I freely admit that they do cause some excitement for about ten minutes they ultimately ruin any chance of a love life you may have for a good 5 years. At least.

If you are so unfortunate as to receive anonymous flowers you will undoubtably partake in the obsessive behaviour which always lasts until you figure out who the flowers are actually from. The process starts with a mental rolodex of every man one knows which is flipped through like mental flash cards - Andy? Nope... he has a Girlfriend. John? No. He would never send flowers. Peter? Gay. Noah? Does not know where I work. Or my name. Nor would he would recognise me if I ran into him and told him my name and how we know each other - until you conjure up that one good looking guy that you have had a secret crush on for ages... and you convince yourself that it is him. It's definitely Josh.

Soon your imagination takes flight - You see his face and it breaks into a large white toothy smile when you ask whether he is your admirer. Simultaneously you tap into his internal monologue (which obviously has a sexy English accent) saying "you clever girl you!" You notice his eyes are so full of love that you can't believe you missed it before. That is usually when the mental montage starts, and then ends unexpectedly quickly when you realise you have only spoken to him half a dozen times and mostly over the coffee machine in the break room. But now, every single one of those encounters seems so... so... signifiant. There is a connection there for sure and you are 100% convinced that Josh  absolutely was the one who sent you the flowers.

You pluck the card off of the bouquet, burry your nose in the petals and take a big sniff (even if they don't smell that great), re-read the card, brazenly strut across the office, knock on Josh's door and say in an oddly breathy voice "Hey there." He looks up in a sexy way - maybe even a little broody... or could that broodiness actually be anger? He does seem a bit put out by the interruption. It is obvious he can't place you but you choose to think he is playing coy. "Hey........... " he doesn't say your name (because he doesn't know it) but you don't notice because you are too busy batting your eyelashes, putting on your perfect pout and positioning yourself in such a way that your best assets are accentuated. Eta James'"At Last" seems to have cued itself up in your brain... and then... eventually... you cop on. Josh is not looking at you like a lovesick fool, there is no toothy grin. There is a hint of a scowl, and he is definitely starring at you... like you are crazy and he is scared he might contract whatever illness you have if you stand there much longer.

See THIS is problem number one with getting anonymous flowers - nine times out of ten you end up outing yourself to your secret crush and ten times out of ten he is not the one that sent them. Even worse is this is usually someone you don't really have a crush on and once "At Last" screeches to a halt in your head you remember that Josh is a total douche bag and you never liked him and would never even accept flowers from him- so you collect what is left of your dignity and walk away. Your brain pulls out the rolodex once again and you begin mentally flipping through the flash cards, continuously outing yourself to more and more people until you are picking up the phone to call Noah... maybe he does know who you are after all... and your cell rings. It's your Mom. She's calling to see if you got her "surprise."

Worse still is when Phil, the guy who has had a very inappropriate, overt crush on you for years, saunters up to your desks and raises his bushy eyebrows a few times at the flowers then points to his gold necklace clad chest and mouths "from me" smacks his gum a few times, winks and walks away.

Anonymous flowers are a disaster in the making. Even if you are SURE they are from that super hot guy who always flirts with you and has asked you where you work and what your favourite flowers are... send them back. I assure you there are from your mom... or worse, Phil.

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