Well to start, she deserves it, this old lady has a major scam going and I'm just taking my share. To be honest it's not just her but her whole family to be precise that has been pulling the wool over our eyes for a long time. Somewhere, back in 1066 lets say, her great, great, great, great, great, grand-dad got the idea to conquer a little island and call it England. Then her Great great great grand-pappy decided to send people looking for new countries and John Cabot found Canada. And her great grandmother made the colony a country that we now live in, with Elizabeth owning everything that we pay taxes for... yes the queen owns the streets and the library and even the fire engines!!! Fire engines!!! And I pay for them... or would pay for them if I payed taxes. It's true, look at a government sign or logo closely enough and mostlikely you'll see HRH. Hermoine R. Hippo.
But to digress, we were in Kingston, Ontario (not Nova Scotia or Jamaica) 2 weeks ago for Kristine's aunt's wedding, and lets just say things weren't going well at all. Makeup sucked, everyone was rushed, hairdressers didn't show up and a friend of hers forgot the flowers. So at about 6:30, I bring the bouquet box up to the bridal suite for her. This was going to be the one thing that went right, the thing that would set things straight. Well she opened it and lo and behold... all the guys flowers were there... not hers. It was anarchy in there, people started crying, dresses caught afire and all I heard was "Do what it takes..." from Kristine.
Well I don;t know if you know me but "Do what it takes" is a pretty empowering statement for me... I was trying to figure out schemes to get some reproductive parts of flowers like 1)throwing a chair through the flower shop window and leading a tulip raid unlike any the Dutch have ever seen. Or 2) enlisting the help of Queens University botanists to grow a super plant that's flowers were perfectly bouquet shaped and smelled of cinabon.
By this point of daydreaming I was outside running frantically around the hotel where the nuptials were to take place in 15 minutes looking for someone to help up. And what do I spy across the street... Tiger Lillies! and Orchids!!! and Lilacs!!! It was a plant taxonomist's wet dream. I quickly ran across into this garden and started tearing.... straight out of the ground gathering and gathering... It was amazing a work of horticultural genius to see this arrangement of flowers. But as I ran out of the garden... I saw HER name on the sign, or at least Parks Canada's name on the sign and I realized... I might be in trouble...
Now the reason I knew I was in trouble is I spent 2 years working for this old lady as a Parks biology intern, doing some amazing research. And as a warning, Parks Canada has some pretty stiff laws... like lifetime bans from parks and huge fines.. and what I just did would put me on Captain Planet's Dead or Alive list... I just turned myself into a poacher.
I didn't have3 time to worry about this though... there must be an exemption for weddings. And I ran back across the street and delivered this ill begotten bouquet to the bride in the nick of time. She was grateful, I was sweaty and the flowers were full of bugs.
Long story short, I took your flowers queen but I gave them to a bride so I think this crime is okay in my books and those are the only books I worry about... and Kristine's books. She was proud of me, aside from the sweat and soil all over me. And in the end the only trouble I got in was that guy who came across the street late r in the night to ask if I stole flowers. I'll let you in on a secret, "If you say you are drunk and don't understand" things usually work out.
And to the queen, "You'll never get them back".
The Garbage Room Provides
No comments:
Post a Comment