It was while I was on line at the supermarket checkout (I don't use the self-scan... remember, the job you save may end up being your own) last night, purchasing provisions for the graveyard shift- the guy behind me, a gent of about sixty or so, had flowers and two Valentine's Day cards. I put the divider on the conveyor belt and joked that he had a good memory for calendar dates. I then busted his hump a bit about having two cards, "One for your wife, and one for your mistress?" He took it in good humor, then contrasted the two cards... one of them had a sincere message, and the other one was a 'Peanuts' themed popup card that played Linus and Lucy when opened, which tickled him pink.
I joked about how buying his wife two Valentine's cards would earn him some brownie points. He was a nice guy, and I imagine that his wife, being the sort of woman who'd get a kick out of a 'Peanuts' card, is a jolly gal. Romance with a side of whimsy, what a nice idea. The trope of tragic love is unhelpful to anyone, maybe we all should be slightly goofy when it comes to matters of the heart.
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2 comments:
The husband and I almost always have 2 cards- one for fun and one for mush. Though the mushy one is often hand made... FYI- came over here by way of MPS- love your comments.
There is only one thing I hate more than tragic love. Well, there are two things:
1.) Tragic love as obligate for queer characters, and
2.) I Big Heart My Domineering (& Often Otherwordly) Daddy
Normally I feel that Valentine's Day is for cucks and speak out accordingly, but this year I was on Vicodin recovering from a tooth extraction and wouldn't have noticed if Feb 14th was National Shove A Quacking Duck Up Your Bum Day. So, marked improvement.
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