Poor SB. I told him that he didn't need to do anything but he was suspicious. In years past I had expected something out of him so he was smart not to really believe me when I said no worries. In the past, V day was a rectification day because it comes 11 days after my birthday and so the plans that SB made for my birthday but ran out of time to do would be completed for V day. The chocolates he forgot to buy for the birthday were so prominently displayed for V day that he would not forget and the same went for the flowers. This year the Paul Frank store was located next to the GOD store, on the way home from the CWB MTR stop and he hit the jackpot for my birthday with one GOD monkey mug and one Paul Frank stuffed monkey. All I wanted for V day was the birthday card. I was so happy with the monkeys that I did buy him a book to read, One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez, as he had told me earlier that he felt like the economics books I gave him for Christmas did not count as literature and he was embarrassed that he had not read any literature for an unmentionable amount of years.
I was pretty happy with his romantic gestures for the past year and did not feel like we needed V day this year to remind ourselves to be nice to each other but he knew better so he frantically threw together a plan as only he can, which brings us to my list of what not do do in Hong Kong for Valentine's day:
1) Buy roses at 3am from the sketchy looking couple on the corner: SB and I came home very early on V day after watching the Six Nations at Carnegies, which I think counts as a romantic night out. We got out of the cab to notice a couple of people waving at us. Curious, we waved back. Then they beckoned. They were selling flowers. "Roses?" they asked SB. "How many do you want?" SB inquired to how much. "Eleven," said the man and quickly grabbed a bunch of them. As they were quickly pulling out a knife to chop off the extra stems on the crooked little blooms, I remembered the kids who used try to tie string bracelets to my arm in Italy and then demanded payment. "Wait," I stepped in the way of the lady as she attempted to chop the flowers, "what is eleven?" The man was now distracting SB by telling him that he was throwing in a few branches of leaves with the flowers for free. "How much?" I asked again. Then the woman began mumbling to herself. She told us $280 for eleven limp roses, which she would discount to $250. I started to laugh. "SB, she thinks we're drunk." Of course it was a good possibility since it was 3am but SB has been having a gout flare up lately. The couple tried a few more tactics before I walked away including telling me something about having to have such high prices due to the holiday. SB took a bit longer to follow so I was not surprised when he arrived at our door with one rose that set him back $30. "They smiled at me," he offered, hanging his head. He knew that he had been had but he couldn't help himself. I gave him a kiss for that and tried no to laugh later that day when he saw a dozen nice looking roses for sale at the upscale flower shop in our neighborhood for $70.
2) Remind her about those pesky last few pounds to shed: SB woke up, kissed me good morning, and said that he would run to the grocery store for a few ingredients for his famous french toast. He came back an hour later and proudly presented me with...a box of lowfat chocolates. "Lowfat?" I asked groggily as I sat up in bed. He snatched them back and stared at the box incredulously. Lesson number 2: do not buy anything in a rush if you are SB. It will always end strangely. Murphy's law applies. They tasted as one might imagine lowfat chocolates to taste.
3) Don't demonstrate the passion of your love with a fiery meal: SB reserved a table for us at Little Sheep. It is the only hot pot location that I go to. We have not been able to figure out how to ask for only spicy broth for our order (we always end up with yin and yang) and the tasty, ginger infused broth always sits alone and unused. SB breaks out into a sweat when eating chocolate so you can imagine what he looks like after a few bites of Sichuan peppercorn and chili infused goodness. A few trickles around the temples soon became a raging torrent pouring down his face. He tried to blame the steam from the pot as he mopped his face continuously. Our waiter practically ran to us when he saw SB's soaked mop of hair and quickly tried to refill our tea, thinking that SB was in agony. When it became clear that SB was still eating away and not in any sort of pain, he began to snicker at us. And then he not-so-subtly brought over more of the waitstaff to gape at the soggy gweilo. At one point, there was so much sweat running down his face that one cheek would drip onto the tablecloth while he was wiping away the other cheek. "I hope they don't charge for tissue," SB quipped at me as he mopped off his face. Romantic!
This has actually turned out to be one of the most romantic V days that I can remember. I can't remember having so much fun and laughing so much.
I was pretty happy with his romantic gestures for the past year and did not feel like we needed V day this year to remind ourselves to be nice to each other but he knew better so he frantically threw together a plan as only he can, which brings us to my list of what not do do in Hong Kong for Valentine's day:
1) Buy roses at 3am from the sketchy looking couple on the corner: SB and I came home very early on V day after watching the Six Nations at Carnegies, which I think counts as a romantic night out. We got out of the cab to notice a couple of people waving at us. Curious, we waved back. Then they beckoned. They were selling flowers. "Roses?" they asked SB. "How many do you want?" SB inquired to how much. "Eleven," said the man and quickly grabbed a bunch of them. As they were quickly pulling out a knife to chop off the extra stems on the crooked little blooms, I remembered the kids who used try to tie string bracelets to my arm in Italy and then demanded payment. "Wait," I stepped in the way of the lady as she attempted to chop the flowers, "what is eleven?" The man was now distracting SB by telling him that he was throwing in a few branches of leaves with the flowers for free. "How much?" I asked again. Then the woman began mumbling to herself. She told us $280 for eleven limp roses, which she would discount to $250. I started to laugh. "SB, she thinks we're drunk." Of course it was a good possibility since it was 3am but SB has been having a gout flare up lately. The couple tried a few more tactics before I walked away including telling me something about having to have such high prices due to the holiday. SB took a bit longer to follow so I was not surprised when he arrived at our door with one rose that set him back $30. "They smiled at me," he offered, hanging his head. He knew that he had been had but he couldn't help himself. I gave him a kiss for that and tried no to laugh later that day when he saw a dozen nice looking roses for sale at the upscale flower shop in our neighborhood for $70.
2) Remind her about those pesky last few pounds to shed: SB woke up, kissed me good morning, and said that he would run to the grocery store for a few ingredients for his famous french toast. He came back an hour later and proudly presented me with...a box of lowfat chocolates. "Lowfat?" I asked groggily as I sat up in bed. He snatched them back and stared at the box incredulously. Lesson number 2: do not buy anything in a rush if you are SB. It will always end strangely. Murphy's law applies. They tasted as one might imagine lowfat chocolates to taste.
3) Don't demonstrate the passion of your love with a fiery meal: SB reserved a table for us at Little Sheep. It is the only hot pot location that I go to. We have not been able to figure out how to ask for only spicy broth for our order (we always end up with yin and yang) and the tasty, ginger infused broth always sits alone and unused. SB breaks out into a sweat when eating chocolate so you can imagine what he looks like after a few bites of Sichuan peppercorn and chili infused goodness. A few trickles around the temples soon became a raging torrent pouring down his face. He tried to blame the steam from the pot as he mopped his face continuously. Our waiter practically ran to us when he saw SB's soaked mop of hair and quickly tried to refill our tea, thinking that SB was in agony. When it became clear that SB was still eating away and not in any sort of pain, he began to snicker at us. And then he not-so-subtly brought over more of the waitstaff to gape at the soggy gweilo. At one point, there was so much sweat running down his face that one cheek would drip onto the tablecloth while he was wiping away the other cheek. "I hope they don't charge for tissue," SB quipped at me as he mopped off his face. Romantic!
This has actually turned out to be one of the most romantic V days that I can remember. I can't remember having so much fun and laughing so much.
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