Free flowers! Ladies, inquire within! (Act 2)

...And I thought tax season was brutal. Back in the days of working at Harpeth Financial, I would regularly work seven days a week during tax season. It wasn't so much intense as it was long and boring. Kinda like Dances with Wolves. If you've never endured (and, really, that's the only way to describe it) Love Day by working at a florist, than you really haven't endured much of anything. Deliveries here, deliveries over there, deliveries and delusions of grandeur everywhere! I, strangely, really enjoyed myself despite the loopiness that eventually ensued.

If you'll notice the previous blog entry I was ready to make some single lady's dream come true on Valentine's Day. I promised them free flowers in exchange for, umm... not being alone on Valentine's Day night. Yeah. That'll work.

Oh, the reposts! Oh, the retweets! Oh, the text messages from friends saying "I showed this to everyone in my office!" And do you know how many direct responses I got from ladies who said, "Yeah. He's kinda cute. Short, but kinda cute. I'll let him bring me a boquet/arrangement/whateverit'scalled. Hell, I may even let him buy me a drink."

Zero. That's how many. Not one. None. At all.

What kind of world do we live in where a woman who, let's face it, has got to be almost as perpetually single as I am can't even say "Yeah, I don't dislike this guy enough where I'll let him bring me flowers." An arrangement that looks as magnificent as this:

If that doesn't just induce feelings of lust and desire, I don't know what will.

Ladies, I'm gonna be honest here: You are missing out on one hell of a prize. Clearly that prize is not me. I tried that. The prize now involves food. And drink. And a sweet ride. I'm now going to up the ante'. In addition to a free arrangement for you, I will throw in the following:
-- One free dinner to the restaurant of your choosing that doesn't involve the word(s) "King", "Castle", "Wendy's" or "Crazy Expensive". Clearly a meal here is not an option. Sorry.
-- Almost all the alcohol you can handle. I don't want to end up being your drunk makeout session this month.
-- Valet parking (if it's available). This is a big deal.
-- An evening of elegance and style riding around in a 2007 Ford Escape. It's a bitchin' ride. Trust me.

I have really raised the stakes, I know.

Let's try this again, ladies. How can you resist?

Be sure to tune in for the exciting conclusion of this trilogy wherein I still get no response and offer, hell, I don't know... ballroom dancing lessons and half a dozen or so Titleist golf balls into the mix.