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CHOCOLATE a bill wetzel joint
He thought about it for sixteen days. About what he would do when he saw her. He imagined some little romantic gesture. Understated, yet somehow grand and epic.
Flowers?
He considered walking in the office, pulling a single rose from his bag and stating: “My friend here is thirsty, could you spare him a drink?” Too trite. Too saccharine. Who talks like that anyway? His romantic side always got the better of him. Foolishly so.
He never could help himself.
But she was special. Irresistible. He knew it from the first second he ever saw her. One look and he thought: “Yup, I’m in trouble.”
So one day he bought a box of chocolates, knowing full well they would see each other at a meeting the next day. It was easy for him to buy them. No act in the history of the world was ever easier.(or less thought through) Eclectic flavors. Sweet. Dark. Delicious. How could this not work? She would definitely be charmed.
Forget the slight tear in the plastic where he scraped off the price sticker. ($8.95, but who is counting?) Everything was perfect. He would stroll in, make some sweet comment and hand the chocolate over. Of course, she would melt and everyone would live happily ever after.
Then the meeting was canceled.
He instead gave the box of chocolates to his boss, quite a woman in her own right, knowing she would share them with all the other women in the office. His dream girl would still get a piece of chocolate. She would still taste his gift. Sure, it would be indirectly, but for him that was enough. He was content with his secret.
And, he would remember this day as the only time he was able to evade the foolishness of his romantic nature.
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