A friend of mine went on an amazing date last night. He came to her door with flowers hidden behind his back. He whisked her away to a fancy restaurant, wined and dined her, and even ordered in french. This evening sounds perfect, no? She told me all about it this morning. My response: "That would have made me vomit, but I'm glad you had fun."
Would it have really made me vomit? Here's the thing... I think we tell ourselves that extravagant signs of affection are ridiculous, when in actuality we're all just jealous it's not happening to us.
Dearest Reader...I've just purchased a one-way ticket to Honestville, USA..CHOO CHOO! Come on the journey with me will you? I'll meet you in the Club Car..at which time I'll tell you some honest things.
(Later..in the Club Car..You and I meet for a discussion)
Oh, hey! Can I order you a cocktail? Wonderful. Say, sit down..I've got some honest things to tell you.
[My apologies to the reader, I just was transported into an old 1930's film on a train for a moment. In said fantasy, I was wearing a large purple hat with feathers..obviously.]
I digress.
Do you remember Prom? Yes, Prom. Go back in your mind-grapes and remember it. No one ever asked me to a dance in any way that included the following things: spray paint, balloons, cupcakes, doves, hiding in boxes, celebrities, doctors, or silly string. At the time it made me a little bummed. I remember one boy asking me to a dance as he sat in the front seat of a car and I sat in the back seat (wearing leopard print pants, combing my huge-ass hair). "Hey, the dance is on Saturday. I don't have have anyone to go with. Will you come or something?" he said, as he munched his McDonalds french fries..."Umm..sure?" slightly offended younger Madde said. I distinctly remember ditching him the night of the dance to go drink some sour apple schnapps and pink lemonade with my peeps in my friend's garage. Woo. The man didn't know what he was missing, clearly.
I think high school dances may have screwed us up as an adults. There's always a little part of us that thinks we don't deserve someone to dote upon us. My friend's date came to her door with flowers. These days, I'm happy if a date notices I brushed my hair for them. I rarely had the doting gentlemen arriving to my house with flowers in high school, so now as an adult, I think it's obsolete. The truth is this: we ALL deserve someone to dote upon us. We tell ourselves it's dumb, we say "why bother?", but at the end of the day..vomit wouldn't come out of your mouth if someone did it for you. I hope.
Extravagant dates are fine, but too much frosting gives your stomach the rot. The cake? Finding someone to laugh with, to joke with, to have drinks with. Someone could take me on a private plane to Italy and have the PopeMobile at the airport waiting to take us to a vineyard full of magical fairies who would sing us songs of the region, but I still get the butterflies in my tummy when someone I like gives me a wink. :)
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