I was referred to Jan the Florist by our wedding caterer, also named Jan. I was hooked when Jan the Food said that Florist was, "barking mad, but in a good way!"
She arrived wearing a marigold colored sari, an aging orange sweater, brightly colored shoes, fire-stained lips, and kohl rimmed eyes. Combined with the clearly British heritage and possibly-but-not-overly-obvious-posh accent, I liked her already.
But what sold me on Florist was her bluntness. She came in and said she'd could have sworn she'd been to the house before. Said it must have been before my fiance bought the place. I gave her a possible name. "Yes!" Her eyes lit up. "You know her? She had brown hair, shoulder-length...."
I smiled. Held back a laugh. Told her the name was my fiance's ex-wife.
"Oh SHEIT!"
Cursing within the first two minutes.
Fabulous. In the non-sarcastic way.
images by Carl Loves Somerset, batikart, and Ben Heine.
3 comments:
I love that this sort of thing seals the deal for you. I think it's why we are such good friends. :)
she's the one...
and, by the way, between your priest and flower lady...this will be a total swearfest.
awesome. xoxo.
OH man, thank god you have good humor in you, I like that:)
Hilarious. Oh Jan!
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