Open your mouths baby birds, because the CEO is about to drop you one sweet fat nightcrawler. Here she comes:
When you’re at Fred Meyer after work on Valentines Day because you don’t have even a card, there’s no doubt about it: damn, you’re in a tight spot. All of the good Valentines have been picked over, and there are nineteen panicky men crowded into the Valentine aisle pawing through the crap that remains. What to do?
Leave the Valentines Day section. Head over to the generic card aisle, where they have anniversary, wedding, sorry, get-well cards, and the like. There you will find a section just called “love”. Find a card that fits you and your lucky lady, write Happy Valentines Day inside, seal it, and you are all good. Proper, even. Much, much better than having to punch out some old guy for the last good V-Day card. Stupid ‘02. I try to forget it, but I have an ugly scar on my right hand vaguely shaped like an oxygen bottle that keeps reminding me.
That’s why I’m the CEO.
