San Valentino

This morning as Cooper and I were strolling through the 'hood, just as dawn was breaking, I noticed a new sign on the Chevron gas station near us.  It read:  "Roses.  Gifts.  Chocolate. Cards."  And I thought how sad it would be to get a gift from a gas station mini-mart. Plus who is the jerk who waited til he (or she) was almost home from work and then thought "Oh, yes, it's the day of love.  I guess I better get something while I gas up the car."  However, I suppose it's better than getting a can of Colt 45 Malt Liquor from that same mini-mart.  Still.  Gas station roses.  Sigh.

On that note, I wonder what delightful evening my date is cooking up for me while I am out earning rent money.  Knowing his fine taste in food, it will probably involve bacon products. An entire dinner based on smoked pork strips.  But, alas, since Cooper has no money, no transportation and no thumbs to open the front door, I fear a celebratory dinner will not be happening in my house. Only in my mind.

But hey, an imagined San Valentino dinner is still better than roses from Chevron.

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