Sometimes, ladies, it just doesn't pay to be a good husband.
I mentioned last week that the wifey has been pretty stressed as of late. I'm sure y'all read about the destruction of her car (and thank the Lord I was out of town at the time, or I'd be sharing a computer with Bubba in the state pen to write this). We just returned from Chattanooga, Tenn., where she was a bridesmaid in her friend's wedding (congrats Charlene and Adam). She's been heavily involved in organizing a local lupus walk, and she's currently working on her students' research papers.
The lady could use a little sunshine.
So, being the playa that I am, I decided to send her some flowers at work to brighten her day. I send flowers to her job every so often but I NEVER send flowers for anniversaries or holidays. Why? Women always expect flowers on holidays but never a random day like May 17 (apologies to the May 17 babies out there). I like the element of surprise.
Plus, do you know how much they jack up the price of flowers for holidays? I'm romantic, but I ain't crazy in love.
Usually, I would place my order at work but my laptop at the job was recently fried by spyware. And there's no way I'm gonna enter my credit card info into that computer now. It would be safer to hand my credit card to Lindsay Lohan and ask her politely not to buy crack.
Anyway, Sunday evening, while the wifey was chatting on the phone with her brother, I decided to quickly slip into our office and order the flowers. She wouldn't even notice.
Or so I thought.
Since I am a walking music encyclopedia, my bro-in-law wanted Jai to ask if I knew when Dru Hill's new album would be released. Jai came to the office, but the door was locked. Of course, she asks, "why are you locked in to office?"
Now I know some of you professional liars out there could have come up with a plausible excuse, but I said the first thing that came to mind: "Uh, nothing. Leave me alone."
NEVER tell a black woman to leave you alone.
Jai gets pissed and is adamant that I tell her what's going on, but I stay silent. Give me a break, playa, I just drove three hours from Chattanooga. I couldn't think of anything else. My mind was as muddled as a Kamaal the Abstract album. Eventually, Jai gave up before she burst through the wall like a curly-haired Kool-Aid Man.
Stupid Sisqo ruins yet another life.
Meanwhile, I couldn't find any good flowers online. Everything was either too expensive or was too lame. But I had to buy SOMETHING - or else I'd come off looking like I had something to hide. I finally found a decent arraignment. I wasn't thrilled with it but it fit the bill.
I finally emerged from the room and Jai says, "So, what were you doing in there?" giving me look like she caught me watching the Kim Kardashian sex tape. I pretty much ignored her but I had to endure inquiries all night long. I had the feeling that she thought either I was either sneaking women out of the office window or disposing of their bodies.
The next day, I got an e-mail from Jai saying "I guess I see what you were doing last night! Thank you for my flowers!" She had like a million exclamation points at the end of the e-mail.
The moral of the story is this: Ladies, trust your men. You never know what's going on behind the scenes. And fellas, if you get caught watching Kim K sex tapes, flowers will make it all better.