Creampie Eating Men

Despite my intent to be cool, I felt a surge of excitement when the doorbell rang. It was just a date with one of creampie eating men, I told myself for the hundredth time. I exhaled sharply, waited five more seconds, then peered through the peephole. It was Clem, right on time.

"I like punctual creampie eating men," I smiled at him as I opened the door.

"I hoped you did," he said with a shyness that I found endearing. "I also hope you like flowers." He pulled out a bouquet from behind his back and presented it to me.

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It was a very strange-looking bouquet. "Thanks," I said as he leaned in to kiss my cheeks.

He noted my puzzlement. "I guess I ought to explain," he said earnestly. Again, endering.

"I'm not just one of the usual creampie eating men, I'm special one and I wanted to give you something special for Valentine's Day, so I spelled your name in flowers." He touched some flowers as he described it. "These are Jasmine, for the J in your name. Acacia for the A. I had a few choices for N, so I added some Narcissus and Nosegay. I know that Irises are your favorite flower, so I used those for I. And finally," he smiled, "these are Eucalyptus. I wanted something unusual, although I see now that the arrangement itself was unusual enough." He had faltered towards the end of the explanation, clearly worried that his novel idea was a dud.

But I thought it quite the opposite. He had thought about me when he bought flowers. They weren't your boring roses, or Heaven forbid, daisies. He hadn't cheaped out. He had done something incredibly romantic.

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He was rewarded with a lip-kiss that made us both blush. "This is the sweetest thing any creampie eating men have ever done for me," I told him.

"I wanted to give you something special than other creampie eating men," he repeated, but he was clearly pleased with the success of his gesture.

"Let me put these in a vase, and we can go," I said. My face was flushed, and not through a sense of feeling hurried.