10 Days [Brallon]

Break The Window

I hate flowers.

Now, I wouldn't go as far to say I loathe them, because there are the occasional few that look too gorgeous to even be real, the couple that someone falls in love with and it's never viewed the same way ever again.

Yet, flowers do smell significantly better than most people I come across, and they don't argue back about tiny unimportant things that wouldn't matter in like 5 minutes, like half of the people that wandered in here that decided against everything I learned and said about how specifically yellow roses do not mean love.

Flowers also don't pass by a store window and look at the closed sign and still pound on the glass anyways like I'm going to welcome them in. Their little petals can't even read, but I'm sure they'd be more respectful than this blonde haired guy that visited yesterday because he'd forgotten his partners birthday or their anniversary or something important like that. I wasn't really listening. Because I didn't really care.

I would say that's why I'm here, to toss together a nice ensemble of petals and colors, but no. Not today. We don't open for 2 more hours and I'm relishing in those said 2 hours before all hell breaks loose. I'm not sure why that happens. This is literally a flower shop.

But it is my store, so I guess flowers are kinda cool. My store that would look great on my college applications after this year break. 'Oh you run your own business?' Yeah, yeah I do and I'm (only sorta) proud of it.

They're cooler than the loser outside pulling on the door handle. I wonder if he knows if you push to open.

I watched him struggle for a moment. A couple people passed and saw the closed sign and ignored the fact that this guy wearing a really nice leather jacket was desperately trying to get in. Everyone around knew I hated putting locks on doors, though. So I left the front door unlocked all the time and hoped people would respect the fact that I still had a couple hours left before opening officially.

But sadly the guy finally realized he should push on the latch, his coffee colored eyes shining in embarrassment when the door finally swung open and the bell clinked louder than I'd expected it to.

He ran up and fixed his hair before reaching in the pocket of his jacket pocket and slamming a neatly pressed 20 dollar bill on the countertop. It was in the shape of a perfectly shaped square, none of the flaps or corners overlapping another. That was some next level origami folding. Even I had to admit, it was very impressive.

The guy stood stone still for a second, his eyes darting around like a group of kids on a sugar high stuck in a bouncy castle after the zipper got eaten by a dog. I remember I said that to someone a while ago, and they had the audacity to say "That's an oddly specific sentence, Dallon." Yeah, yeah it is and I'm glad you can process that.

My friends and I were weird kids.

"So like, did you need anything?"

"Yeah actually I do," he blinked a couple times like he'd zoned out, which he probably did, looking back on it "How do you say 'fuck you' in flowers?"

Honestly, I'd thought he'd ask how many roses he can buy for however much, but I guess not. It was a nice change from the average sappy gift though. 'I need a valentines gift-' check the goddamn list above your head and ask for a package deal because it's there for a reason.

"First of all, that'll be 14 bucks, not 20."

"I just found out my ex partner has been cheating on me with my now ex best friend, so sorry for not having exact fuckin' change. So can you put it together without the sass or not?"

So that's why he was here so early.

"Give me 5 minutes." I told him and he crossed his arms nervously and sighed. The soles of his boots tapped impatiently against the tile floor.

Out of the dozens of buckets in the back, I never thought I'd have to put together a 'fuck you' ensemble. It was fun though, and I'll admit it looked pretty cool.

I carried it back out and set the plastic vase on the counter and started naming them off.

"I hope you're not allergic to Geraniums, Foxglove, Meadowsweet, Carnations, and Lilies, but I do hope your cheating partner is."

[a geranium is stupidity, a foxglove is insincerity, a meadowsweet is uselessness, a (yellow) carnation is like 'you've disappointed me', and a (orange) lily is hatred]

"Can you put in poison ivy? I'll make sure you won't get sued."

"And how're you going to do that?"

"My friend is gonna be a lawyer."

I don't know who this guy thinks he is.

But honestly, I definitely wish I do, because at the mere mention that I don't own poison ivy, he emptied his pocket and out dropped a snack baggie stuffed with dozens of different types of dandelion weeds probably located in sidewalk cracks and road bumps, along with another small snack bag overflowing with poison ivy.

"If you could incorporate those dandelions too, that'd be great. I'm like 99% sure he's allergic to them because I always had to pull them out from his backyard."

It was 7 am, and some guy with really nice hair and coffee swirl eyes is handing me dandelion weeds and poison ivy from the street to put in a plastic vase full of anger themed flowers to deliver to his ex partner.

"Well, I would but I'm not sure if it's exactly legal."

"Oh. I'll do it myself then, if you don't mind. Got any gloves?"

I reached under the counter and into one of my billion boxes of rubber gloves and tossed them to him. He caught them both with one hand and dropped in the poison ivy as soon as he put them on.

"You're a weird guy, aren't you?"

"So I've been told."

I rang him up and gave him 6 dollars back for the 20, and he scooped the flowers up in his arms and spun around on the heels of his complicated boots with a million straps to ask one last question on his way out the door.

"If this doesn't break the window, do I get a refund?"

"Depends on whose window it is."

"My cheating ex partner's bedroom window." He bit the inside of his cheek and hugged the flowers closer to his chest, dirt spilling over the plastic lip and on to the tile. "Believe me, he deserves it. Serves him right this time, that lying soggy bowl of cereal." He added quickly under his breath and stuck out his bottom lip in a dissatisfied pout.

"No refund, yes replacement." I decided.

He nodded contently, shifted his grip on the vase, and stuck out his tongue in deep thought.

"Alright," he muttered through a smile "I'll probably be back tomorrow then."

And boy, do I hope so.