OK. So back to the shock. I've had my share of approaches, and heard plenty of come-ons in my day, but this is by far the weirdest of all.
First, this is not the crazy man who kept showing up earlier this summer. (He could be crazy for all I know, but it's not that one. And it's not the same neighbor.)
It's certainly different, definitely sweet, but also mildly creepy. I mean how often do you get six long-stem red roses -- in a beautiful arrangement--with a card attached from a complete stranger? And one stalking you in your driveway at that? I have to say this is a first.
The card is a Hallmark square, blank inside. (Bonus for Hallmark.) On the outside, it just says HOWDY, with little stars accenting the O and the D. (Howdy? Seriously.)
The card starts out:
To the lovely young lady ... (Bonus for use of of young and lady.) Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is .... I saw you sealing your driveway on Saturday afternoon. I am an acquaintance of your neighbor... I am asking for an opportunity to meet you at an appropriate time and place.
OK. Isn't that a little creepy? C'mon, you know it is. I mean I'm working in my yard in an obnoxiously purple T-shirt and black shorts which were, admittedly, shorter than I normally wear. (MonkeyGirl says the shorts did it. She may be right.) The clothing choice was deliberate only in that it was things I would be THROWING OUT after the job was done. But they weren't that short.
Use of howdy and the neighbor in question are neither strong recommendations. I'll give him that he said acquaintance and not lifelong friend. And the fact that he can use three-syllable words puts him well ahead of said neighbor. Said neighbor is also not overly bright or overly ambitious and the way he treats his girlfriend, who's a sweet gal ... well, let's just say I hope it's not birds of a feather.
MonkeyGirl aptly noted that flower-sender might be looking for a hard-working woman to do stuff while he drinks beer and chats with his buddies. Oh yeah. THAT is exactly the kind of man I want. Exactly. *extreme sarcasm*
Flower-sender's handwriting is very hard to read. (The mother said it's worse than hers, and hers is tough.) But I see no phone number. No email address. But the card goes on: I may be contacted by mail on the return address corner of the envelope.
Um, yeah. OK. BY MAIL? I guess he's in no hurry. And how old IS this guy? No phone? Doesn't he use "the email?" Technology, dude. Technology. Sheesh. (The neighbor is late 50s, so makes me wonder.)
So I guess I have a card to write. But what the hell am I supposed to say? Like I said, I couldn't make this stuff up.
Guess it will give me something to ponder while I continue with Pimp My Shed today.