If you want to win my affection, don't bring me flowers. And before the horticulturists get up in arms, I have nothing against flowers, per se. Flowers are nice. They're pretty and they generally have a pleasant scent. But the thing is, I don't have a vase. So they end up sitting in one of those cheap plastic cups that you get when you order a large soda at the movie theater-mine advertises the last Batman movie that came out. Plus, the cat usually ends up eating them anyway.
And don't bring me trinkets or tokens. I don't mean to sound ungrateful; I'm sure that whatever you've purchased was intended to be a sweet gesture. And while I'll thank you for the gift, I probably don't really want it. I have plenty of junk already. And, really, how many sad-eyed stuffed animals holding signs proclaiming your love does a girl need?
Nope. If you want to win my my affection, bring me baseball. Bring me the summer sun. Bring me Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy, Tom Caron and Dennis Eckersley. Bring me pretzels and beer. Bring me 7:05 starts and west coast road trips that make it nearly impossible to get to work on time the next morning by the time they're over. Bring me well-fought games and blow-outs--with the good guys winning, of course. Bring me overly generous strike zones and close plays at the plate. Bring me spectacular catches and towering home runs. Bring me jubilation and frustration; disappointment and disbelief.
Or chocolate-as long as it's not filled with coconut. Coconut is poison.
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