Flowers of Mysterious Origin

I like to think I'm a loyal, caring friend. When Julie hit a rough patch, I wanted to do something that would cheer her up. We already talk all the time, write letters, send books and packages. We text and email and IM silly random stuff that cracks us up. I wanted to do something different.

So I decided to send her flowers.
I know, sending flowers is fairly typical, right? Not the way I did it.

This requires some backstory:
       When we were in Seattle, Julie and I ate at a divey cafe called the 5-Point. Our waiter was a tough-lookin' biker clad in black, sporting the most impressive of moustaches. Once he opened his mouth, we realized he was flamboyantly gay. He joked with us, he charmed us, and he brought us delicious food. He did not, however, introduce himself. So when he brought the receipt, I looked at the top to see Server: Babe D.
       Every day after that, one of us would turn to the other, a thoughtful look on our faces. "What do you think Babe D is doing today?" Julie sent him some fan mail, and I vowed to name my eventual-puppy in our waiter's honor.

As I was clicking through the flower arrangements, I saw one that was a puppy, which made me think of "my" Babe D. Which made me think of the real Babe D. Which made me write the card that would accompany the flowers as if I were Babe D himself.

During a conversation later that same night I ordered the flowers, Julie and I were talking about Richard Simmons. (Don't even act like you find that strange.) I said "I wrote Richard Simmons a love letter back in January because I heard he writes back. Still waiting." Julie replied "Aww, I just remembered I never got a response from Babe D." Could that have been a more perfect set up?

The day of delivery was my first day back in the office after a month off. I sat at my computer, giggling as I imagined Julie opening the card and thinking Babe D had replied to her fan mail in a most extravagant fashion.
       Julie texted me at one-thirty in the afternoon, just to share that she was out to lunch and "got a sandwich called the Memphian. And somebody sent me flowers."
       I was giddy. I couldn't stop laughing, trying to keep quiet so my co-workers wouldn't think I had gone insane.

Julie, 2.16p: Going home now to see who sent flowers. I'm betting my aunt and uncle.
Allison, 2.17p: For graduation?
Julie, 2.17p: Yeah, I dunno who else would send them.

(IT KILLED ME TO KEEP QUIET AFTER THAT, BUT I DID. CLAP FOR ME.)

Julie, 2.39p: OMG. LADY. YOU FUCKING ROCK MY WORLD.
Allison, 2.40p: What?
Julie, 2.40p: YOU SENT THE FLOWERS!!!
Allison, 2.41p: I thought your aunt sent you flowers?
Julie, 2.42p: No, I thought that's who sent them, but you sent them and signed them Babe D!
Allison, 2.42p: Umm, no... it sounds like Babe D sent you flowers.
Julie, 2.43p: Nice try, but Babe D doesn't have my number and you do.
Julie, 2.44p: And they're shaped like a PUPPY!! WITH A BOW!! I love them so much.
Allison, 2.46p: I didn't think about the phone number… Bummer. I wanted you to have a magical day thinking Babe D sent them.
Julie, 2.49p: I was serious fooled for a minute. I read it and said "No fuckin way" haha. It was definitely magical. Then I realized the phone number thing, and the puppy/Babe D tie-in.



And that is how Allison sends flowers.