Roses Are Red, I Wish I Were Dead

Initially I wasn’t very attracted to Kenny, but being that I was on the rebound from a recent breakup and it was also my New Year’s resolution to cease my shallow tendencies when it came to selecting bachelors in hopes of better luck, I opted to meet him for a drink.

I entered the well-lit cocktail lounge and the first thing that caught my eye was the conspicuous bouquet of red roses that were awkwardly placed on the bar. To my horror, my date was sitting directly adjacent to them.

Those can’t be for me. No way.

Now, this was not just a small floral arrangement that you pick up at the bodega on the corner. This bouquet must have contained 30 roses at the very least. I can’t even figure out how he managed to carry them down the street without assistance from a crane.

As he greeted me he beamed with pride. “These are for you!”

Don’t get me wrong, the gesture was very thoughtful and didn’t go unappreciated, but right before I took a seat he told me that we would have to go somewhere else because the bar was about to close for a private event.

We got up to leave the bar and he left me to lug this gargantuan tree of roses down the 7th avenue by myself as he leisurely strolled next to me. When we got to the next establishment I received plenty of inquisitive stares as I struggled to find a place to set my colossal vase.

“So what do you think of the flowers? I bet no guy has ever done that for you before.”

“They are nice. That was very sweet.”

“This whole thing cost me like $80 so I’m glad you like them! I only do this for girls that I really want to impress.”

“Oh, glad to hear I’m so special.”

“The last girl didn’t appreciate it so much though. She though it was a bit creepy and left without them. She was kind of a bitch about it.”

I finished up the second round of my drink and made my way to a taxi. Thank God for the flowers at that point though because they were so big it blocked his face from trying to kiss me goodnight.


Email us at

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *