Valentine.
So its valentines day. Happy valentines day to all you people actually who care (i.e. girls who are happily in a relationship). And happy Wednesday to all you who don't (i.e. everyone else). Today I woke up at the crack of dawn (7 am) and helped out the flower shop I worked at a couple years ago. They get swamped this time of the year so I delivered flowers for them. It is mostly fun and goes pretty smoothly but once in a while there is a snag.
This morning one of th deliveries I had was to a woman named Ida in a big condo complex. I found the building pretty easily and parked my car in the usual manner (illegally) and then went up to the call box. Unfortunately her name was not in the directory so I tried just entering the number of unit and hoping for the best. This whole time I am struggling to hold up this massive vase stuffed full of roses. There was no answer on the talk box, so I just try the door. It was locked. I stand there thinking for a minute to develop a plan of action, when a woman walks out of a side door. I lunged at the door and made my way into the building. The side door led me to a staircase which I climbed to the first floor of condos and then tried the elevator. Turns out it was broke. So now I lugged up this vase four more flights of stairs to make my way in front of the woman's door. I rang the doorbell once, waited, and then before I could ring it again, the door was opened by a huge shirtless Persian guy. I stared at him open mouthed for a few seconds and then hesitantly asked him if he was Ida. His expression stayed a pretty stoic stare as he answered me in a deep accented voice, "No Ida, no Ida here. Next building." Turns out he had gotten her deliveries before and the flower place wrote down a ten on the address when the building should have been a twenty. So, I hike back down the stairs and leave the flowers for the real Ida next door.
Overall a pretty good day of driving around and making people happy, and others unhappy when they realized the flowers weren't from them because they have jerk ass boyfriends its for someone else in their office who is actually loved by someone.
Now it is time to follow the single guy valentines day tradition of making a bonfire in my backyard, stripping down naked, and covering my self in blood (usually cow, possibly dog), as I curse all happy couples and dance around.
This morning one of th deliveries I had was to a woman named Ida in a big condo complex. I found the building pretty easily and parked my car in the usual manner (illegally) and then went up to the call box. Unfortunately her name was not in the directory so I tried just entering the number of unit and hoping for the best. This whole time I am struggling to hold up this massive vase stuffed full of roses. There was no answer on the talk box, so I just try the door. It was locked. I stand there thinking for a minute to develop a plan of action, when a woman walks out of a side door. I lunged at the door and made my way into the building. The side door led me to a staircase which I climbed to the first floor of condos and then tried the elevator. Turns out it was broke. So now I lugged up this vase four more flights of stairs to make my way in front of the woman's door. I rang the doorbell once, waited, and then before I could ring it again, the door was opened by a huge shirtless Persian guy. I stared at him open mouthed for a few seconds and then hesitantly asked him if he was Ida. His expression stayed a pretty stoic stare as he answered me in a deep accented voice, "No Ida, no Ida here. Next building." Turns out he had gotten her deliveries before and the flower place wrote down a ten on the address when the building should have been a twenty. So, I hike back down the stairs and leave the flowers for the real Ida next door.
Overall a pretty good day of driving around and making people happy, and others unhappy when they realized the flowers weren't from them because they have jerk ass boyfriends its for someone else in their office who is actually loved by someone.
Now it is time to follow the single guy valentines day tradition of making a bonfire in my backyard, stripping down naked, and covering my self in blood (usually cow, possibly dog), as I curse all happy couples and dance around.
