I got this orchid at work for a low, low price, because it's about to lose its blooms and become a boring green stalk for the next year. On my walk home, I stopped at Walgreens to purchase some new scissors for my obsessive home haircutting practice. The employee at the photo counter was enamored with my orchid, and possibly, me. He told me all about his orchids, and how he kept them in the bathroom for the humidity, and what a good deal they are at Trader Joe's, and how lucky I was to get such a nice one for free.
The next morning, I returned to Walgreens to fuel my Diet Pepsi addiction, and he rang me up again. "I've been thinking about you all night!" he said. "At the bus stop this morning, I was thinking about your orchid, and maybe how you would sell it to me, you know?"
"That would be a pretty good racket," I said, "But I'm not selling this time. Next time I get a free orchid, though, it's yours. Seriously." I kind of felt bad for not giving him the one I had, since he loved it so much, but I love it too! Then he called me "Miss Orchid," and I was on my way.
So, in conclusion, if you want to know how to please the little man at the Franklin Street Walgreens, give him an orchid. He will melt with pleasure.
1 comment:
Miss Orchid is such an exotic name. It sounds like some sort of Anna May Wong femme fatal. So, how was the sin in soft focus? Was it great to see those films on the big screen? I wish I was there. My evening was exciting anyhow, I just had dinner with Ted and Mariah! I wish you and Crystal had been here, it was just like old times, only with rain.
Post a Comment