The concept of Yin-Yang is a Chinese philosophy on how things work. It’s about opposites and interdependence (“shadow cannot exist without light”, sort of thing). And as the symbol above infers, it is not static, but in a constant state of flux, like the TV show ‘Up All Night’ — that was a single cam, then a multi-cam, had the creator, showrunner(s) and star quit, and now it’s cancelled. But Community came back on. Thus, Yin-Yang.
Now, I’m no philosopher. I had to look all this stuff up just so I had a hook to tie together this post.
But there is something to this, as evidenced by my recent experience helping a florist with their Valentine’s deliveries. I did it to place some cash in my pocket, but when I factored in my gas costs and time, I realized I was making child-labor wages. The upside? I earned writing material, which I wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.
So what follows are my observations from the day, which some of you will enjoy and others will not. You’ve just been Yin-Yanged! Or something…
… sending a woman flowers on V-day might seem lame and expected. But watching the joy on EVERY woman’s face when she get’s flowers, yowza! If you wanted your gal to try the Bavarian Gob Stopper in bed, send her flowers. You’ll have a 26.7% greater chance she’ll do it. That’s science
…and the corresponding look of envy on every other woman’s face when one of their coworkers got flowers. If your girlfriend sees that jealousy on the ‘bitch she hates from accounting’, your odds go up to 55%
… next to receiving flowers, is the excitement of possibly receiving flowers. Like the room full of women who lit up when I walked in, then despised me when I realized I was in the wrong office
… there was the woman who was so excited at receiving flowers I thought she was going to kiss me (she didn’t)
… and the two college chicks who were so excited that one of them received flowers, I thought they were going to kiss each other (they didn’t, sigh)
… or the 50-something guy who asked his unit secretary why she was getting flowers and when we both answered “Valentine’s Day, duh”, got the same “oh sh*t” look that Ebenezer Scrooge had when he realized the spirits had done it all in one night and he didn’t miss Christmas
… if I have to be buzzed into your gated community, I’m forced to cross your moat and drive to the back like a commoner on Downton Abbey, just so I can deliver $300 worth of orchids to your spoiled daughter — and you don’t tip me — I am personally going to bite you when the zombie apocalypse comes
… when my car is double-parked, the building elevators inevitably move slower than an old man making his way across a shag carpet and his walker is missing those tennis balls
… when placing your order, please list accurate location info so I can find your loved one to give them your god-damned flowers. Because that is what I start calling them when it takes me more time on a delivery than it did to rescue those trapped Chilean miners
…college students and faculty should not be allowed to receive flowers on campus. It is impossible to find you! NO ONE knows the actual address of a building, only it’s common name (“I think that’s the McDonald’s Happy Meal Memorial building”), there are like 50 departments in every facility, even the single-story ones, and half of them are named Dept of Technology or Research. And college kids make me feel old… very, very old