- She makes you smile.
- You want to make her smile.
- You love that little girly squeal she makes when you show up at the door with a fistfull of her favorite blooms.
Terrible Reasons to Bring a Gal Flowers
- You thought she'd be more likely to sleep with you.
- You thought she'd be less likely to make you meet her parents.
- You did something stupid, but can't swallow your pride enough to tell her, "I'm sorry," so you try to make up for it by stopping off at the gas station and springing for the $1.99 wilted wonder in a cellophane diaper.
I remembered a spot on my local radio station a few weeks ago, about men who bring women flowers when they've done something wrong.
I really don't know what most women think about that, but I can tell you, for myself, that flowers will absolutely not get you out of the doghouse. In fact, it's not even a good idea to think about flowers when you're contemplating sleeping on the couch. Here's why:
1. You make a habit of bringing me flowers when you're "in trouble". Today, you were driving home from work, thinking of me, and struck with the brilliant revelation that it'd be a stellar plan to do something simple and sweet and totally out of the blue. You swing through the local florist and pick up a fist full of fragrance, then come sweeping through the door with them, grin firmly plastered across your mug. My first reaction? "Okay, what'd he do this time?"
2. I'm not for sale. If you wanted to make nice-nice and crawl into the bed with some one, you'd have been better off hittin the corner and picking up some leggy blonde in torn fishnets and red lipstick. Instead, you came home to a leggy brunette in torn fishnets and red lipstick. I'm still pissed, and you're still not gettin any, but I know what the outfit does to you, so yeah, I'm gonna wear it while I put together a pot pie.
3. When FTD claimed, "Nothing says -I'm sorry- like roses!"... They lied. You can't make up for being an asshole with a dozen long-stemmed buds. Try this novel concept on for size: the next time you do something stupid, apologize. That's right, just come right out and say, "Yanno, that wasn't the most brilliant thing to do. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings." You don't need to self-depreciate. I don't want to emasculate you, or bludgeon you over the head with it. You're human. You make mistakes, just like every one else-- except me, of course... we all know I'm perfect!
Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead.
When Death claims the light of my brow
No flowers of life will cheer me: instead
You may give me my roses now!
(Thomas F. Healey)