Valentine’s Day — like other holidays when you’re working retail, it sucks. But it’s especially depressing if you’re not in a relationship. People with chocolate, wine, cards, roses, etc., rushing off to be with their significant other, presumably for a night of great sex, romantic passion.
Movie stars are single. I am alone.
Late one night at the liquor store on Valentine’s Day, I’m there — alone. My graveyard partner is on lunch or in the bathroom. A bearded biker dude and his girlfriend come in. She’s blonde, not a kid, but still attractive, drugs and alcohol haven’t worked their corrosive magic just yet.
They buy some booze, maybe some beer or cigarettes, I honestly don’t remember. On their way out, she gazes wistfully at the overpriced rose bouquets by the door.
“Is there any way you can sell me just a single rose?”
I shake my head. “Can’t do it. You gotta buy the whole dozen.”
“Aww, please? I just want one.” She gives me an enticing smile, designed to charm.
“Sorry. I really am.” I maintain my cynical, world-weary facade of the liquor store guy.
“You sure? There’s no way you can sell me one?” she pleads, still working it with the smile.
My resistance crumbles. “I‘ll tell you what. If I walk away, I won’t know it if a single rose goes missing.”
I turn away from them and walk slowly toward the far side of the counter until I hear her call, “Thank you…”.
I look back and we share a conspiratorial smile. Her biker boyfriend sees this and starts to flip.
“Who does this guy think he is? I oughtta kick his ass.”
“Stop. He was just being nice,” she says, pushing him out the door.
I smile to myself, feeling slick. I’m still alone on Valentine’s Day but what the hell. My graveyard partner returns from the back, puts a porno mag back in the rack.
“I miss anything?” he asks.
“Nope.”
Great story, bro! Thanks for making me smile!
Good story–but it made me sad. The best line, I think, is: “Movie stars are single. I am alone.”–You could write a whole essay just on that.