When I was around 13 years old, my mother bought a flower shop in downtown Clemson, which was still a very small town at that time. I worked at the shop, Morgan's, off and on until she sold it in 2002. I'd come home from college to help with the Valentine's rush and I even skipped school in high school to work Valentine's (I had all A's, I could miss a bit here or there). You learn a lot in a small town flower shop. I knew every single road in Clemson, even Charleston Ave, which at that time was about 100 yards long and had no street sign. You learn other things too.....the obvious subjects: which flowers are which, how to do arrangements, how to make flowers last longer or open more quickly....and the not as obvious subjects about relationships. It was a small town and this was before grocery store flowers were available for discreet purchase and it was before Google to help with out of town flower purchases, but I digress.
Valentine's Day for me was work and a ton of it with very little sleep. By the end of the day on the 14th, I'd have red eyes (no sleep), a slightly delirious gate (again, no sleep) and bloody hands from stripping thorns off roses. Roses have thorns and they must be removed, or stripped, before the rose can go out to the customer. I was a stripper. One afternoon in the Valentine's rush, I was taking orders with a long noisy line but our designers had run out of stripped roses, so my mother comes marching out front to take my place and tells me "I need a stripper! Go to the back and strip, will ya?" Dead silence and a bunch of stares.
Valentine's Day was, at the time, something through which to suffer. Now, looking back with decades gone by, I nearly miss it. I miss the crew of characters. We had fun.
Valentine's Day for me was work and a ton of it with very little sleep. By the end of the day on the 14th, I'd have red eyes (no sleep), a slightly delirious gate (again, no sleep) and bloody hands from stripping thorns off roses. Roses have thorns and they must be removed, or stripped, before the rose can go out to the customer. I was a stripper. One afternoon in the Valentine's rush, I was taking orders with a long noisy line but our designers had run out of stripped roses, so my mother comes marching out front to take my place and tells me "I need a stripper! Go to the back and strip, will ya?" Dead silence and a bunch of stares.
Valentine's Day was, at the time, something through which to suffer. Now, looking back with decades gone by, I nearly miss it. I miss the crew of characters. We had fun.
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