Dont Mince Words

I was in the office checking my email early this morning when the guy I report to walked by then backed up and did a double-take.

“What did you do to your hair?” he asked.

“I washed and straightened it last night. Washing my hair seems to be a Valentine’s Day tradition.” I replied.

His jawed dropped open and he said, “What about what’s-his-name? That guy you picked up the night of our movie debut in October? Aren’t you still seeing him?”

“I’m not sure. He sent an e-card yesterday and said he had to work last night,” I explained.

“He lives near you and can’t swing by for two seconds? Oh Marna, he’s got commitment issues. Move on,” he advised.

So, it appears I don’t have a boyfriend after all, but I do have a kicky new hairdo.

I’m not a fan of this holiday, but if you are going to recognize it, do it balls-out-swinging, otherwise, mutually agree it’s a stupid holiday, let it pass in silence, and find a different way to profess your love.

Beans, who still lives eight blocks from me, sent an e-card. Seriously, an e-card, but it gets better. The message had five consonants and two vowels. Yes, he’s a writer, but obviously he had romantic writers block. He had an opportunity to redeem himself that evening when he called. Instead, he insisted he could not stop by and teased me about being alone on Valentine’s Day.

The card and envelope I selected to give to him in person is back in my desk drawer. I’ll use it for someone else next year.