Good florists and bad florists


This is another cranky-old-man story.  Please stop reading now if you’re sick of these.



Still with me?  Okay.  Here we go:



I wanted to buy flowers for a memorial service that took place on Friday, November 11: Veterans’ Day.  I called my favorite local florist, A New Leaf, a not-for-profit which employs people with psychiatric disabilities; they do lovely arrangements and are generally very fairly priced, but sadly they were closed on Veterans’ Day and couldn’t deliver the flowers.



I hung up and thought briefly.  There’s another local florist, whom I shall not name – he has a creepily twisted beard, and his shop is on a street which rhymes with Schmickenden, for all you locals – and whom I do not normally use, as I think he is a grimy little gnome.  (Some years ago I was standing behind him in line at a local coffee shop, and he went on and on to someone about his staff, blah blah blah, they weren’t trustworthy, he had to do everything himself, blah blah blah.  I wanted to bludgeon him to death on the spot, on behalf of his staff.)  But, I thought, he’s nearby, and my crazy friend Patricia thinks he’s wonderful, and he can certainly execute a simple commission like this. 



So I call Grimy Little Gnome and describe what I need.  “And,” I said, “I’d like the flowers delivered tomorrow, noonish.”



“The flowers,” Gnome said in his haughtiest voice, “will be delivered today.”



This caught me offguard.  “Beg pardon?” I wheezed.



“We are closed tomorrow,” he said loftily.  “We will deliver the flowers today.”



“That’s not appropriate,” I said.  “I don’t want them delivered today.  I want them delivered tomorrow.”



“That’s simply impossible,” he said coolly.



“Ah,” I said.  “Let me get back to you.”



And – click! – down I go with the receiver.



So I call my third florist – Jephry, on Broadway – who was charming on the telephone, and very sweet.  When I got to the memorial service the next day, the flowers were there, and they were spectacular. I will also say that he didn’t overcharge me at all.



Moral: when someone gets all diva on you, you should go all diva on them right back. 



That’ll show ‘em! 


About Loren Williams
Gay, partnered, living in Providence, working at a local university. Loves: books, movies, TV. Comments and recriminations can be sent to

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