Flower Talk

She wondered briefly if sending flowers that would be received with joy and anticipation of happy times ahead, when she neither felt nor intended any such thing, would damage her karma. She brushed the thought aside, as she did most ideas, she found distasteful. She yanked open the door to the flower shop and proceeded to put her plan into action, pushing her way to the counter despite the other customers in the shop. After considerable bickering and complaining about everything from the vase to the ribbons to the garland, she purchased a beautiful and quite expensive arrangement.

The store manager, who had spotted her when she came in, had difficulty keeping his tongue in check and a smile on his face, especially when right in the middle of her third or fourth tirade, she abruptly answered a call, turned her back and proceeded to conduct a lengthy conversation standing smack dab in the middle of his pretty little shop. Two or three customers came and went as she talked.  She was completely oblivious that people were struggling to slide around her and giving her nasty glances for her rude behaviors. The manager just shrugged, directed them to a side counter and helped them with lovely little Spring bouquets for one happy occasion or another. Most of them confided in him about their life’s events, told stories that made him laugh or brought a sentimental tear to his eye and so he was smiling and content by the time she had finished her call and turned back to him demanding immediate attention once again. His good mood evaporated, but he sighed, smiled, and went back to trying to please her.

Finally, she was satisfied with the somewhat obnoxious, yet picturesque bouquet and gave him detailed instructions and delivery directions. He mentally tacked on extra charges for both her incredible demands and her nastiness. She never blinked, paid with her platinum card and left in a swish of an over large purse, pleated skirt and cloud of perfume as she answered her phone once again with a surly, “What now!”

The manager was not sorry to see her leave his shop. He loved the sale but felt a shiver of distaste regarding the entire transaction. He was facing a moral dilemma as well. He knew the intended recipient of the flowers. She was a dear friend of his, and one of his most valued customers. Moreover, he knew that the scheming little diva who purchased the exquisite bouquet for her was setting her up for a big fall. She was not circumspect or at all quiet while on her phone call, and detailed quite explicitly what her plans were for the flowers and his friend.

After leaving the flower shop, she marched down the street talking and gesturing, pushing through people on her way to her favorite Bistro. While in one way they hated to see her coming, she was good for the bottom line. She came to this Bistro because they knew how to please her and make the coffee to her demanding specifications. Once again, she didn’t blink an eye as she tapped her card to pay the $40 tab. She was as stingy with thank yous and tips as she was forceful with her demands. It never occurred to her that the owner of the Bistro more than doubled her price and tacked on $5 for a tip. He felt it was only right and fair. Tit for tat as they say.

While she was at least moderately intelligent, possessing a con artist’s grasp of how to manipulate and control people and situations, she was strangely unobservant and unaware of how people actually felt about her. To be honest, she didn’t really care. But it was a potentially dangerous blind spot for the haughty hard driving young woman. She concentrated almost solely on outward appearances. Since she had inherited her mother’s beauty, she had the added advantage of her looks. She had even insisted on being called Charmaine from an early age. She didn’t care for her given name and thought this new name sounded a bit like Charming. That delighted her. Ironically, she was nothing of the sort, unless she wanted something. Her inherited wealth helped her attract any number of syncopates, who dutifully reinforced her ego and jumped just as high as she wished, any time she asked.

Her current target was none other than Dame Marion Cooper. Dame Marion, a lovely lady, and great benefactor for many charitable endeavors, was in search of a chairperson to assist her with one of the biggest fund raisers of the year. Such a position would put that person in close personal contact with most of the wealthiest members of society, many of whom were eligible bachelors. Charmaine intended on first charming Dame Marion and acquiring the position. That accomplished, she planned on usurping her role and landing the bachelor of her choosing. From that day forward she would be in control of the biggest societal events with a suitable and wealthy man on her arm. She didn’t much care about his age or looks. Position and power were the name of the game and she intended to be in full control of both.   

The florist had shaken off his gloom from Charmaine’s visit, and a happy smile now decorated his small face with its big mustache. His large belly, covered with a bright blue apron festooned with colorful daisies, proceeded him around the corner as he ran right into none other than Dame Marion. He had a decision to make, and he instantly decided it was time to have a heart-to-heart talk with his good friend.  

Placing a CLOSED sign carefully on his door, he invited Dame Marion into the back room, where he proceeded to brew their favorite tea and put out some of his most delicious little cookies. The ones with vanilla icing and the small cherry in the middle. Once settled in on cozy chairs, he described his customer, her phone call, and in a sweeping accusation her instructions. He showed his good friend a picture of the bouquet in question. They both did have to concede that she had good taste, if not somewhat over the top. Bigger wasn’t always better!

Dame Marion sipped her tea, and nibbled at her third cookie while staring off into space. He knew not to interrupt her while she was thinking. He wanted to take the last cookie but decided he’d best leave it alone. He would be mortified if she were to reach again and find the plate empty. Sadly, he hadn’t thought about purchasing a new box, and this was the last cookie currently in his possession. What was life without a good cookie to grab when needed?

Finally, Dame Marion, reaching for the last cookie, stopped and looked at him inquiringly. He just nodded in encouragement, and she happily picked it up and started again to nibble. He sighed. He really wanted another cookie. But just then, she told him about her plan. The two of them discussed it for a bit, and he took a few notes. She finished up her cookie with just another spot of tea, and purchased several flower arrangements that he would send out for her. She had many friends with whom she shared her love of flowers and made sure to share the joy of weekly bouquets with them. With a gracious thank you and warm hug, she left the store, returning his sign to OPEN.

Mustache and smile in happy alignment once again, he went to work. First, he took care of all of her orders for delivery. That done, he fixed a small black vase and inserted one single black rose. He marked it for special delivery with a note that read:

The bouquet you sent is happily adorning the entrance table for the homeless shelter downtown. I am told they admire it and wish to send a thank you for the kind gift. In addition, I hope that you accept this small token from me. Consider it feedback regarding your plans to acquire the Chairperson position I have currently available. The answer is no. I would suggest in the future, you consider your actions quite carefully. This town can be so very unforgiving.



As he closed his shop that evening, he wondered how the diva liked her delivery. He hoped she found it charming. He supposed she would be angry and not learn from it. He sincerely hoped that any contact with her was in his past, and with that, he decided firmly to move on to happier pursuits. There were, after all, cookies to purchase!