Don’t Get Lost on the Way to My Heart

I love LOVE. On February 14, retailers and greeting card manufacturers especially love LOVE.  

To shop or not to shop for each other. That isn’t the question. The question is how the average person can ever find love when everyone’s tastes are so different. 

Example #1: shoes. Look at my bedroom closet shoe rack and behold shoes in various heights of heel, open and closed toes, and shades that span the spectrum. I’ve a pair only worn once that spoons a pair worn to frayed stumps but too adored to toss.   

Next open the front hall closet to find a battalion of boots designed for every season and event. From ‘duck’ shoes to bulky Sorels, fashion boots to cowboy boots. I know, it’s time to toss the tap shoes from an unrequited childhood dancing dream. My step-ball-change just didn’t cut the cliched rug. 

Now look at my partner Paul’s half of the closet. Make that quarter.  

Two pairs of loafers, one pair of sneakers and flip flops. That’s it. Return to our front hall closet to find his work boots, winter boots and diving fins. He’d rather store his fins in the bedroom closet, but with my legion of footwear outranking his, he knows I’ve won the battle.  

Example #2: directions. Paul is lost. If he’s inside a mall, he won’t ask anyone for help. Instead, he’ll wander until he finds a big panel with the YOU ARE HERE red dot that shows every store’s location. 

Before owning a car with a navigation system, Paul would drive until he was short on fuel and long on bad temper because he refused to stop and ask for directions. 

Perhaps if blood was spurting from a femoral artery and if the hospital was nowhere in sight, but until that moment, never. The logical act of seeking help is akin to threatening his manhood with rusty scissors. In his determined mind, he’ll find the right route and solve the traffic maze, no matter how long it takes.  

Who cares that he’s 30 minutes late for the meeting, party or bris? He arrives on his own steam. And curse words (from both of us). 

Not me.  I’ll insist he pull the car over after five minutes of searching. I’m confident that someone can point the way. Also, those strangers won’t think less of me and if they do, I’ll never see them again. We’ll arrive at the party in time to yell “Surprise!” 

For Valentine’s Day this year, I plan to buy Paul an update for our car’s navigation system. What should he give me? A pair of those scissors that make him so nervous – I need to trim my credit card use. See above closets brimming with footwear. 

Just kidding, shoes are what I want for Valentine’s Day and there must be a shoe sale somewhere. Paul offered to drive me and I figure if we leave now, we’ll find our way. Eventually.   

Viva la difference, viva l’amour! 

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