Recently, I witnessed a guy send a good female friend six bouquets of two dozen roses. And a stuffed animal. With cards. Another friend commented that this guy must really be interested in the recipient. The recipient of said lavishment gave a short laugh, kind of rolled her eyes, and said, he's interested in something alright. She knew. The flowers weren't for her, they were for her vagina.
Apparently if one dozen roses gets you a date, twelve dozen will hit it out of the park (ah baseball analogies; why couldn't sex be referred to in terms of something less monotonous...oh just answered my own question).
Maybe it was an act of desperation, maybe it was just overt ignorance. As far as I know, she's still seeing the guy, so something worked for her. Or her vagina.
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