I know a fine gentleman such as yourself would never deign to come between a lady and her truly immense blossom. Fine breeding and the sort of manners one can only find far, far away from the Northeast engenders an aristocratic tolerance to huge, huge blooms. Now shall we disport ourselves on the verandah? Just you, and me, and my rose? Though, truth do tell, there’s really only room enough for my rose. Do pour it a glass of sweet tea, there’s a gentleman.
This looks just a bit like a scene out of Little Quinceañera of Horrors.It’s that scene shortly before they find out that Audrey’s corsage has to down two or three quarts of Jack Nicholson a day or it gets rabid. “My goodness! What a strange and unusual nosegay you have there! It’s twice the size of my niece’s prom corsage, and she’s from Texas!”
I’ve known more than a few drama queens in my life. But it takes a special kind of poise to flounce out of the room when you’re attached to a huge, drifting floral pouffe. It’d be like trying to have a hissy-fit whilest tied to a cloud of Mylar Pichachu balloons. I know the massively enumerated purse is for that all-important 15th birthday, but maybe, just maybe, it’s her racing number, and stampeding behind her are a team of 14 other debutantes in frilly dresses carooming up the way, each with a different stupendous floating blossom. It’d be like the Running of the Blooms in Pamplona. But more springtime-fresh, and with less bulls.
WATCH OUT!!! It’s sneaking up behind you!
I don’t know what this says (well, actually, I do, it says “we rent bouncy castles and balloons”), but what I want it to say is, “giant floating rose for EXTERNAL USE ONLY.”
Savers on Burnet and North Loop, Austin