Undisclosed - Zach Bo1inger
Humor Archive
Would you buy me flowers?
(Fiction)© 1995 James Choi
"Would you buy me flowers?" she asked me on the phone.
There is not much room to maneuver for a question like that if you choose to stick to the "sensitive man of the 90s" mask.
"Yes, of course," I answered without hesitating while frantically trying to remember if I had seen any cemetery from my work to her house. As everyone knows, cemeteries are the prime source of fresh and free flowers for these fake sensitive men of the 90s.
"I knew you would," her voice was cheerful. And so was my mood. It is nice to know that the mask I am wearing is actually being taken as my true nature. But there was a twist.
"JC," she started the sentence with my name. That's not a good sign. She does that when she breaks bad news. "I was at the supermarket, and saw some flowers. They were sooooo beauuuuutiful...." She paused waiting for my acknowledgement. I just stayed silent. She went on nonetheless, somewhat less enthusiastic.
"It was so beautiful that I bought it," she annouced. It was not clear what it had to do with the first question of me buying flowers for her.
"Well, that's good," I made a completely non-committing remark.
"Do you think it is right that a lady should buy flower for herself?" she asked me.
"I don't see anything wrong with it" was my thought. But the sensitive man of the 90s mask said otherwise.
"Oh, poor thing. How could you let that happen? What are those all wooers of yours doing anyway?" I said in a sincerely concerned tone. And I nicely narrowed the target region to some other guys who are currently wooing her. I am not one of them.
"I know!" her voice volume went one notch up encouraged by my agreement. "So, I told everyone that you bought me those beautiful flowers."
"That's very nice of you," I thanked her from the bottom of my heart for casting such a nice light on me for others to see.
Suddenly, I was transformed into a flower-giving sensitive man of the 90s. A good deal, I must say. Imagine all her friends who visited her house. Now they will all want to have me as their boyfriend. But boy was I naive.
"So, send me ten bucks," she announced.
I was silent for a few seconds. I could not believe what I heard. "JC, are you there?"
"Oh, yes, I am here. Of course, I will send you the money. I was just thinking about something else" Man, it is getting expensive to be a sensitive man of the 90s. That's what I was thinking.
"Thanks, I appreciated it."
We exchanged proper parting words and hung up the phone. She managed to get ten bucks that I earned with my sweat, tear and blood with just one dinky phone call.
I felt used and abused. Something was not right. But I was not sure exactly what.
I am going to send her the money this time. But I am seriously re-examining this sisi business of "sensitive man" nonsense crap. Who gives a flying hoot about flowers anyway? And who in right mind will actually pay for the freaking flowers when you can pick them for free at a local cemetery? It is time to take off that funny idiotic mask of the "sensitive man of the 90s" and show my true face of a timeless cheapster.
"Timeless cheapster" I like the sound of it as well. Yeah, that's what I am. I also decided to filter the calls for a while, just in case.
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