I was driving home last night after a day at work where I desperately tried to keep my eyes open. I was thinking about how much I wanted to crawl into bed in my sweats, tell the South Beach diet to fuck off since I complied perfectly and didn’t lose any weight the 2nd week, and shovel some non-South Beach food in my mouth while watching trash t.v. Then I saw my little computer, nestled in its place on my desk. I had been in a hilarious email convo with some cool chicks, and I was wondering if there were more exchanges while I was driving from work back to civilization from the hinterlands. So I sat down at the ‘puter.
The first and only thing I can focus on is an email in my inbox from NewJersey. There was more to it than this, but you know I can’t copy and paste the emails anymore. The gist of it was, “It’s Valentine’s Day Velvet and we should be doing something.” Emails went back and forth. A phone call came. Plans were made. I would pick up dinner and he would come from work to my house. And that my friends was our plan. I would like to tell you that he followed through and that was that and sign off, happy that my details remained private for another post.
BUT I CAN’T! Because there’s more that’s worth discussing!!!
When he got to my place, I opened the door and found him with a bottle of wine and flowers that he jokingly called Pansies, but they were yellow roses. I adore this man! We ate. We watched t.v. We slept. We fulfilled the (bleeped out) promises of aforementioned IM conversations. We woke up. We went our separate ways to work.
I stopped at the grocery store to stock up on beverages for the office. I called my boss to see if there were any special requests. When I arrived at the office, he helped me unload. Then, all I did, and I swear, is grab something off the printer for myself and saw he printed something so I brought that to him as well. And he said, “You’re being especially nice today, someone must have had a good Valentine’s Day.”
Someone did. At least two someone’s that I know of.