I work retail part time. I refuse to be a “starving artist”, and I’ll work as many jobs as needed to live comfortably. So I picked up retail work last summer and, let me tell you, it is miserable. I have never before met so many ornery, impatient, ungrateful, and disgraceful human beings in my life. The sweet customers can’t even make up for it. This job is straining my ability to emulate Christ’s grace *sigh*. The holidays are considerably worse, because people are messy, in a hurry, stressed out, and trying to scam you for every penny they can get. Valentine’s day was no different.
I have been single for every Valentines day of my short existence. You think you’d get used to it, but somehow seeing lovely couples on TV and in every advertisement just eats at you. Yet another reminder I’m not eating the cake everyone else is enjoying (or not. I mean, let’s face it, relationships are hard). But I was feeling pity for myself–not gonna lie.
Saturday night, while I’m minding my own business stocking shelves, a young man approaches me. He hands me a rose and says,
“Happy Valentine’s day.”
After I stammer a confused and awkward thank you, he leaves. That’s it. No exchange of telephone numbers, no requests. That’s it.
But he left me feeling pleased indeed. You see, I’ve never had a secret admirer. I guess there’s a first for everything.
Happy belated Valentines, everyone.
Written Things 