We’ve all heard the account of the real reason we celebrate San Valentín. If you haven’t, google it, I’m sure you’ll find something. Of course, now it’s turned into a Hallmark holiday in which people milk money out of those men hoping to get some later tonight. This holiday is especially great for women because it’s the day where we get wined and dined and magical things are supposed to happen.
Over the last four years, Daniel has sent me endless stuffed animals, candy and cards. Before Daniel, the infamous ex would prepare candlelit dinners and magnificently wrapped jewelry boxes. But the year that sticks out the most in my mind was the one in between the ex and the cheater, in which I had befriended San Jose Dave. We had met in an Excite chat room late one December night. We had exchanged descriptions and pictures and eventually beeper numbers. He’d call and leave me voicemails or dial 50538.
That February, while I was Tae-Boing my little heart away the Saturday before Valentine’s Day, there was an obnoxious knock on the door. My mom answered it and was given a large rectangular box. She knocked on my door and handed me the box when I opened my bedroom door. Because I had mentioned that I had ordered some shoes online, she quickly dismissed it as the shoes.
I, however, knew it wasn’t a box a shoes because it was far too long. I examined the box further and realized there were flowers in there. I eagerly tore it open to find half a dozen of red roses. I grabbed an empty hard plastic Slurpee glass and filled it with water and that magical little powder that always comes with flowers these days. I arranged the bouquet in the glass and placed it on the speaker box at the foot of my bed.
About an hour later, when my mom no longer heard the Tae Bo video, she wandered into my room. The first thing she saw was the flowers, “Mi’ja! ¿Quien te mando eso?” she exclaimed. At this moment, I was forced to tell her all about Dave. She was pretty surprised and seemed happy, not freaked out like I thought she would.
My brothers of course wanted to know who he was and where he lived so they could kick his ass. They looked at the return address on the box and since they were unaware of online orders said, “Florida? Is he a Cuban? Puerto Rican? He better not be black!”
At that moment, I didn’t care. He was far away and most importantly, I knew he thought enough about me to send me flowers for Valentine’s Day. Things quickly took a nose dive into the pacific between us, but occasionally I'm remined of his gesture when I run into the card that came with the flowers and that one time while I was home, I saw that my mom had used the box to store some of her ceramic angel figurines. Nevertheless, every Valentine’s Day since, I always recall the excitement of actually getting flowers for Valentine’s Day and I can still smell their fragrance that infused my room for about two weeks.
I know that wherever he is now, he’s making plans to take his girlfriend/fiancé/wife on some romantic evening on the town. He’s probably having her picked up in a limo and having her delivered to a suite at the best hotel in town where they will have dinner and ending the night with champagne on a horse drawn carriage where he will present her with some awe inspiring gift. Although this could make me jealous, in the end, it doesn't matter because I'm with a guy who loves me so much that he didn't watch any college bowl games because he wanted to spend all his time with me.
Over the last four years, Daniel has sent me endless stuffed animals, candy and cards. Before Daniel, the infamous ex would prepare candlelit dinners and magnificently wrapped jewelry boxes. But the year that sticks out the most in my mind was the one in between the ex and the cheater, in which I had befriended San Jose Dave. We had met in an Excite chat room late one December night. We had exchanged descriptions and pictures and eventually beeper numbers. He’d call and leave me voicemails or dial 50538.
That February, while I was Tae-Boing my little heart away the Saturday before Valentine’s Day, there was an obnoxious knock on the door. My mom answered it and was given a large rectangular box. She knocked on my door and handed me the box when I opened my bedroom door. Because I had mentioned that I had ordered some shoes online, she quickly dismissed it as the shoes.
I, however, knew it wasn’t a box a shoes because it was far too long. I examined the box further and realized there were flowers in there. I eagerly tore it open to find half a dozen of red roses. I grabbed an empty hard plastic Slurpee glass and filled it with water and that magical little powder that always comes with flowers these days. I arranged the bouquet in the glass and placed it on the speaker box at the foot of my bed.
About an hour later, when my mom no longer heard the Tae Bo video, she wandered into my room. The first thing she saw was the flowers, “Mi’ja! ¿Quien te mando eso?” she exclaimed. At this moment, I was forced to tell her all about Dave. She was pretty surprised and seemed happy, not freaked out like I thought she would.
My brothers of course wanted to know who he was and where he lived so they could kick his ass. They looked at the return address on the box and since they were unaware of online orders said, “Florida? Is he a Cuban? Puerto Rican? He better not be black!”
At that moment, I didn’t care. He was far away and most importantly, I knew he thought enough about me to send me flowers for Valentine’s Day. Things quickly took a nose dive into the pacific between us, but occasionally I'm remined of his gesture when I run into the card that came with the flowers and that one time while I was home, I saw that my mom had used the box to store some of her ceramic angel figurines. Nevertheless, every Valentine’s Day since, I always recall the excitement of actually getting flowers for Valentine’s Day and I can still smell their fragrance that infused my room for about two weeks.
I know that wherever he is now, he’s making plans to take his girlfriend/fiancé/wife on some romantic evening on the town. He’s probably having her picked up in a limo and having her delivered to a suite at the best hotel in town where they will have dinner and ending the night with champagne on a horse drawn carriage where he will present her with some awe inspiring gift. Although this could make me jealous, in the end, it doesn't matter because I'm with a guy who loves me so much that he didn't watch any college bowl games because he wanted to spend all his time with me.
1 comment:
Any man that prefers to spend time with his girlfriend instead of watching sports is a keeper!!
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