A St. Valentine's Day Decision
St. Valentine’s Day can bring back memories, both good and bad. It may also bring back the moment that potentially changed your life.
Nineteen-eight-six, Valentine's Day, and I had just met Arlene (future ex-wife) a few weeks earlier. We weren't actually dating at that point, just had gone out a few times.
Both of us worked at AT&T. I worked in an open area, where there were nine desks, lined up three by three. My phone rang and it turned out to be the security desk. The guard said there were a dozen roses just delivered for me.
It took a while for him to convince me, but when I went downstairs, sure enough, there were a dozen roses with my name on the envelope.
I opened the card, and the roses were from Arlene.
I had never received flowers from a woman before, so it felt weird as I carried them to the elevator and back to my desk. Some strange looks from co-workers, but I explained who they were from and things quickly went back to normal.
Normal didn't last long, not after my phone rang (again).
It was the guard telling me again (through his laughter) that another dozen roses were just delivered.
Not to make the walk of shame alone, I asked my friend Heidi to come down with me in case it was a joke.
It wasn't.
There, on the desk, was another dozen red roses with my name on the envelope.
I opened the card, expecting to see Arlene's name, but they weren't from her.
Around the same time I met Arlene, my friend Dave had introduced me to a friend of his (for the life of me, I cannot remember her name).
This woman, who I’d only gone out a few times with, sent me the flowers.
Once again, the odd walk back to my desk, and the quizzical looks on my co-workers' faces did not stop for the rest of the day.
So, what to do?
This was something new for me. Two women clearly expressed an interest in me. I was lucky to have one woman even show interest.
I found myself at an unfamiliar, romantic crossroad.
Realistically, however, I already knew the answer.
Even though I didn’t expect flowers from Arlene, it still made sense. We had spent a lot of time together. We were at the beginning of something; we just didn’t know where it would end up.
But there was a shared potential destination.
When the other (I can’t remember her name) woman sent me roses, that was from out of left field. We barely spent any time together, just a few parties. Never any dates with just us.
So a month later, while still at the beginning of my relationship with Arlene, I decided to send her flowers.
Ironically, later, Arlene told me that she was ready to break up with me because she felt our relationship was going nowhere.
But, when she received the flowers I sent, she decided to give our relationship a second chance.
If I hadn't sent the flowers, things would have ended with Arlene then and there…
...instead of fifteen years later.
And here I thought flowers were my friend.
Damn you, flowers.
Damn you.
