Customer 2 at the Florist.

She places her purse on the counter while hubby circles the showroom.

“What do you want to tell your Mother?” she asked him.


On the card. What do you want to say to your mom?”

“oh, hurry up and die, already…..”

She rests her elbow on the counter, her chin cupped inside her palm. She rolls her eyes rolled upward…
“I’m gonna kill him,” she said.

“I know,  ‘turn that frown upside down,’ and ‘feel better soon.’ “ she decided.

Hubby interjects- “I don’t wanna spend no more than thirty dollars…”
Wife looks over at him.
I explain to them the minimum costs for delivery, wiring  charges, delivery, taxes…

%$#^ it, – I can just take her out for a meal for that kind of money.

Thank you, have a great day.



She came into the florist wearing her Michael Moore Film Festival badge, and I mistakenly took her as an employee.

“Oh, I don’t work with the festival, just an attendee.  I’ve watched 30 movies so far- most of them were good, a few not.  I have been attending almost since it started.  Something to do.”

She had me make a low arrangement for a bedside table.  Guests were coming.

“Can I watch while you make it?”

“Of Course.”

I created a tape grid on the top of the glass cube vase- a little trick to keep flowers in line.

“So that’s how you do it?  I’ve never seen that before…”

“That’s one way, ” I answer.

We make small talk about Traverse City, the Cherry Festival,  Michael Moore and the Film Festival, and Movies on the beach.  It’s delightful here in the summertime.  Lots of tourists.

She’s a pleasant lady.  Always impeccably dressed and well-groomed.  She could teach me a thing or two.

She’s shopped with us a couple of others times, and always asks for the same arrangement and the privilege to watch.  Yesterday, she said “No occasion, I just want to cheer myself up.”

“Are you enjoying this beautiful weather?  I had a yard sale and finished a really great book- a novel, and I usually read a lot of non-fiction…1000 White Women, its called.  I offer an overview.

“Oh, I don’t have time enough to spend on fiction.” she said.

I am reading a biography of Ulysses Grant…”

You are my kind of lady, I said.




After a drawn out conversation while taking an order over the phone, my favorite Florist T. hung up and says…

“The Things people do for love…”

Two Ladies, One Conversation:

“At first I didn’t even like him;  I don’t think he likes me, either.  Then I dreamt we were wrestling- but we weren’t just wrest-ul-ling, it was more than that, like our bodies were entangled- we were fully clothed, but it felt like sex.

I haven’t stopped thinking about him since…”