Valentine Disaster??? Or Is Valentines Itself A Disaster?

A friend of mine was awakened by a call this morning at 7:45 a.m. from Apples To Zinnias Florist. They asked to confirm her address for a  floral delivery tomorrow, on VD day that was supposed to be a romantic surprise. Knowing nothing about this, she stumbled over her words and even admonished the caller for checking with her, not the sender. Well, said the store clerk, he was supposed to get back with us and and didn’t and besides, it’s the thought that counts. This is one of the many reasons why Valentines Day is my least favorite holiday — really, it’s not even a holiday. We are celebrating, I think, the death of a martyred, likely conservative fanatic who left a goodbye note for the woman he loved and was executed for his faith. Now you cannot escape the red hearts and roses, paper plates and napkins, getting mad at your spouse for not dropping $75 on a dozen perfect red roses (or for the wisely frugal, 24 at Sams for $27) or the urge to wear your heart on your sleeve — or chest.

 So what do you think? Florist faux paux? Must I run to Victoria’s Secret first thing in the am for something, anything, red and (I guess) lacy?