Tuesday, February 14, 2006

flowerlicious

Young Tinks has reminded me of a happy wee period in my life when I worked in a florist shop. Mostly it was part-time while I was at university, and then briefly full-time before I bought my own shop (another story). Tinks helped out one Valentines day, and then I believe we all went back to his place and got trashed while playing with his new giggling monkey.

At the time I thought it was the most outrageous thing in the world to have to start work at 7am. I'd have to have a greasey samosa at about 9.30am just to get me through the day.

Valentines was LOVELY. It was crazy full on, but you could always guarantee that people would be delighted to see you. They'd also think you were very lucky when they saw you walking along with beautiful flowers.

I did send some poor woman a bunch of yellow roses instead of red ("what does it mean? He loves me just a little? Misses me? Wants me to just go away?"). I learned a very valuable lesson from my boss that day, the "just ask them how they'd like it sorted" strategy. Turns out the grumpy guy whose order I stuffed up liked being asked how we could fix it, and didn't want it fixed at all.

Those roses must've sent the right message, whatever it may have been.

1 comment:

Kate said...

My friend who's a florist was working on Sunday just to get her weekly office orders out of the way. Prices at the markets were crazy, but to be expected.