So this morning I was running a tad behind, and in a bit of a flustered state trying to leave my apartment. I jammed into the tiny elevator (only one is working now) and what do you know, Floor 15 and that guy from back in the day gets in. We smile, greet one another, and upon arriving at the Lobby he motioned for me to get out first like a true gentleman. Not a bad way to start your morning.
My favorite doorman, Anthony, was working today and as I approached the glass doors he casually asks me if I checked my mail yesterday. "No" I reply. He then tells me that someone sent me flowers, and that they have been sitting there all day waiting for me. Really? For me?
I peek around the corner and see a mysterious package from 1-800-Flowers all bundled up with my name and address on it. Glowing and more than slightly excited, I tell him my thanks and rush upstairs to open them. Forget that the valet drivers have my car waiting and probably holding up the exit lane. This was much more important.
I tore open the package to behold a beautiful houseplant with pink flowers. But alas, there wasn't a card. I have no idea who these flowers are from. I had to leave them on my kitchen table and rush to my car, and ever since then I've been trying to solve the mystery.
Either way it's made the start of this day one of the best in awhile.
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1 comment:
hmmm, interesting, verrrry interesting. My money is on Mr. Smith. He is after all, such a high-class and noble soul. yessir, it's Smitty for certain.
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