Thursday, February 14, 2013

Luv fer Sale

Traffic at the shopping center Wednesday evening was backed up 
as though it were Christmas Eve. People were streaming from the party
store with balloon bouquets. Little children held the ribbons for 
Mylar balloons in one hand, while holding onto mom with
the other as they navigated traffic in the parking lot.

Since the New Year, stores have been stocking wares 
for the annual assault on the objects of our love with brightly colored
ribbons streaming from balloons, flowers, and chocolates. They've caught
our eyes as we walked through the produce department, building
our anticipation, adding beautifully arranged bouquets of
myriad flowers as Valentine's Day drew closer.

The whole flower department looked like a carnival 
of commercialized amore. Rows of stuffed animals leaned, 
appealing to the soft, paniced hearts of shoppers, 
the purple heart on the rear  of one fluffy pup 
symbolizing the affection of a wagging tail.
Step right up! Take a gamble! Don't pass by the chance
to win your sweetie's undying love ! Buy! Buy! Buy!
On one shelf, I saw clear plastic cartons, usually meant
for a dozen roses, that had been filled instead with
six cans of beer arranged on a bed of shell peanuts
and wrapped in a big red bow.
In the distance, I could hear a lone banjo
playing ... 


dive said...

I'd forgotten it was that time of year until I popped over here this morning, Speedway.
Being single and undateable does have its financial advantages from time to time.

Speedway said...

I couldn'r very well forget about it. the stores began putting out stuff right after the new year and built on the displays until yesterday. I could have done without all the shiny balloons, cheap chocolate and stuffed toys, but the colorful flowers were a joy. Every once in a while I'd catch their fragrance and it was wonderful.

Happy Valentine's Day to you, Dive, what's left of it anyway. And what's this "Undateable" crap? No way.

dive said...

Mercifully, the stores don't push the stuff the same way over here … yet, so I can avoid thinking about it.

And yes, fifty-four years of bitter experience tends to sway the statistics somewhat. But at least it means I don't have to shell out good money for crap in February.