The Perfect Marriage

The Perfect Marriage

Archibald Lee is a 35 year old investment banker from Georgia (he'd have to be, with a name like that), and he is unsurprisingly unmarried. Archibald (never Archie) is about to step from his house freshly refreshed and powdered and is 15 steps away from his new-last-year Cadillac. Archibald is about to head to the drugstore and make an extremely ill fated decision, which he is currently blissfully unaware of. His blue pinstripe suit is not new, but it is his best. His shoes are polished, and an extremely light little box in his pocket is weighing on him heavily. The spring in his step almost (but not quite) as spring-y as the weather. Lilacs adorn the side of the street, and if Archibald could tell the difference, he'd tell you that his tulips are coming in nicely. Not as nice as roses, but that's tulips for you.

Not that he had roses. But still.

Archibald is now enjoying his Cadillac convertible. It must be terribly important to Archibald to have a convertible, because it makes him very happy. It is a trait that seems prevalent with investment bankers. Archibald, who had yet to find a prescription that would make him romantic, took no notice of the streets he passed everyday- they had whimsical names like "Memory Lane" and"Pleasant Street" and even "Willow Tree Avenue". It was quite and avenue, Archibald would agree if asked. It met all of the no-doubt extensive qualifications of avenuedom. Such as being more expensive but less convenient than a Road and not quite as shop aligned as a Boulevard. For himself, Archibald lived on a Path. It was a handsome path at that, and there were enough picket fences to merit pointing out. Archibald was quite proud of being a Path person, but he would like to eventually be an Estates person, before finally retiring as a Cottage person. He was already a Club man, and a Links man. Archibald practically defined himself by these appellations.

As the easy sun was moving westward, ever westward at the hour of 5:00 pm Archibald arrived at the drug store. Here he bought a dozen roses, which had quite a longer stem then they show in movies but isn't that everything these days, and a breath mint. Archibald is 34 minutes from ruining his life. He considers buying a coca-cola, Archibald being the type to exclusively use the full name, but there is essentially no overlap between the occasions that a Very Thoroughly Adult Man like Archibald would want both Roses and a Coca-Cola. The two things lived in different worlds, like say- Tanks and Yorkshire Terriers; or Chocolate and Petroleum. Archibald makes a mental note to buy a coca-cola tomorrow, because he is the kind of person who makes notes about buying himself a coca-cola.

At 22 minutes to go, Archibald shows up at Hayridge Dental Office in Hayridge Office Park. He is going to surprise one Ms Ellen Shisbury with flowers and an impromptu picnic dinner. Archibald flew in on a fleet of whimsy, because he only called the office of Hayridge, DDS last Thursday to request that Ms Ellen Shisbury be scheduled in such a way that he might sweep in and steal her away early at the extremely unprofessional and decidedly romantic time of 5:15. It should be worth noting that Hayridge Dental is open to 6pm, and not 5pm as most dentists are, lest you think Archibald is anything less than the very example of romantic gestures.

At 5:18 a somewhat unsurprised but exceedingly gracious Ms Ellen Shisbury got into the Cadillac that Converted and was only moderately nonplussed that her hair was going to be out of place. Archibald now has 19 minutes remaining in his unruined life. He spends eight of those precious minutes going through his time efficient and well planned routine questionnaire about Work Today and Your Nails andThat's Nice Dear while simultaneously driving towards Mr Thomas's Kosher Deli, where he has a completely spontaneous picnic basket with white wine and French Cheese, From France waiting prepaid. He spends less than five minutes getting to the park and setting up the mandatory white and red checkered blanket under the Quite Nice Isn't It Dear Elm Tree. With five minutes remaining, Archibald quickly, but not hastily, sets up the dishes and the spread because one simply can't rush romance.