My good friend and I sat in the window of Coffee Bean. We were talking about writing and our girls and life. We do this almost every day. We watched a man race by clutching a bouquet of flowers and a box of cupcakes.
"Awww, it's someone's birthday!" my friend said.
"Awww, someone screwed up," I said.
Her assumption: that this man was racing home with birthday goodies for his beloved.
My assumption: this man had done something wrong, something somewhere between bozo-ish and downright terrible, and he was in a hurry to apologize, and toting aesthetic and caloric reinforcements to plead his case.
Why am I so cynical? I am sitting here at Starbucks plumbing my mind to try to pinpoint a time when someone wronged me and showed up with flowers. I can't pinpoint an instance. Hmmm.
Why do you think I have such a sinister take on something as seemingly sweet as flowers and cupcakes? Are too many years in this city hardening me? Do you like getting flowers or do you worry about what they might mean? What's your favorite flower? Speaking of roses, anyone else watch the marathon Bachelor finale last night? Thoughts??