Hallmark Love Day

So, today, officially, is the anniversary of the day in which a man of questionable identity was buried at the Via Flamina (north of Rome) circa. 269 A.D. He may have been a martyr, a priest, a bishop, or simply a collection of legends and fictional characteristics created by Chaucer.

Happy Burial Day, everyone! What better way than to celebrate St. Valentine's new occupation of pushing up daisies, than to send each other flowers!

I myself did some 24-hour-kmarting late last night. (note to self: submit the verb 'kmarting' to Addictionary.org for inclusion into the English language) This was to make up for my bent for doing everything 3 minutes before deadline.

This is why at 1:24 am (20 past God-forsaken, as I like to call it), I was blearily staring at my computer, doing my best to will it into submission. I had a bizarre X-Men moment. Everything I touched promptly packed up and shut down for the night. Halo 3 was very distorted and cut off, so I gave up altogether, and tried to get some designs done for cards I wanted to give my sisters for Hallmark Love Day. But my MacPro had some other ideas, and everything shut down. I then consulted my phone to send a text message to a mate, but was Unable to Send Message 7 (Stored in Outbox to Send Later, thanks very much). I then tested my telephony abilities by prank-calling my sister. The Call Failed. (Retry? NO. Don't try! Just DO! Just make the call!)

At this point I was sufficiently aggravated to effect a curfew, and went to bed to worry about my technical difficulties in the clear light of day.


6 Hours Later...

We rejoin our protagonist, still asleep, standing at the Tram Stop, having been delayed from leaving for work on time (mainly due to his insistence on laying out presents and a card for loved ones), realizing his wallet is at home in a plastic shopping bag from Kmart, trying to make an emergency call (to anyone who could rendezvous for a wallet drop-off) and finding he is able to use his phone for almost anything except actual communication with other people.


20 Minutes later...

Having been reunited with his wallet, the boy wonder finds himself in desperate need of a wake-up. Where better to obtain one than our favourite coffee stand - GOSH Coffee at Box Hill Station! We can tell this will go down well...

Before I go on, I must tell you that I have had sound relationship advice from a trusted friend of mine, who suggests that all I need to do in order to strike up a friendship with the Coffee Androids is slip in a suggestive comment when requesting a beverage. This I had to try.

I was planning that the conversation would go along these lines:

Android (with clown-makeup smile): "Good morning sir, what would you like this morning?"
Joel (all charm and wit): "Your number and a Grande Mocha, thanks love." (this punctuated by an unmistakable wink.)
Android (blushing furiously with a hint of a smile): "That'll be $4.20...0..423 576 509... Happy... Happy Valentine's Day!"
Joel: (swaggering slightly in light of recent achievements) "Cheers, darlin'"

In actuality, I arrived a second too late. I was beaten to the punch by a middle-aged man dressed in short shorts (white socks pulled up past his black runners) and a baseball cap. He proceeded to flirt dangerously with the Android, with a goofy grin on his face as he looked around to see who was taking note of his success with the ladies, and the dutiful robot went off to fix his coffee (and slip a little something extra in for him too, I'll wager).

This perplexed me. As I waited for my pick-me-up (double the size of my regular caffeine fix – today had not started well after all), she proceeded to have a lengthy conversation with this man, asking him if he was doing better than he was the previous day (?), doling out advice on love, life and other words beginning with L.


What. The.

Am I so repulsive, so unapproachable, so... unworthy of the time of day? Is it the age difference (she was clearly manufactured about 30 years ago)? All I managed to get out of her (after offering a very sincere, clearly-enunciated 'Thankyou very much') was a sullen 'You're welcome' - this being projected directly at a nearby benchtop in the other direction. The benchtop appreciated that, I'm sure.

On the International Day of Lurve, I have been outright rejected.


In other news...

I have discovered that people other than Mum read this blog (she doesn't read it herself, incidentally). I discovered, when logging in to create new thought-provoking philosophy for the masses, that I had unread comments in my inbox, waiting to be moderated and added to the marvel of modern publishing that is this blog.

In the dregs of the spirit of Sorry Day leftover from the 13th, I apologize to all those who interacted with me through comments and were flatly refused! On this, the Day of Love, I want you to know I do appreciate you, and thanks for reading.

I have some actual intelligent thoughts to pen, but I should save them for tomorrow. They may be more refined if I give myself some thought-processing time. We will all be the better for it if I take a breather.


Until then...



Joel
– Spreading the luuuurrrvve...