Sara Sather is a creative writing student at Concordia University, St. Paul. Her work can be seen in All Things Girl and Down in the Dirt Magazine. She is also fluent in piglatin.

Flower Guys (December 20, 2010. Issue 23.)

Flower Guys: the first stop in the search for the ideal wedding florist. After being referred by mom’s missionary friend from church, she and I were eager to meet Jose for our first consultation. Unsure of where the entrance to the unmarked store was located, I stood in the lot waiting for Mom to unleash her five quart purse from the passenger seat of her newly leased Toyota.

“Can I help you? What you here for today?” said a scratchy voice that reminded me of Kel from Kenan & Kel. As I turned to see the man, I was sure that I was in the presence of Snoop Dog. But then he smiled, revealing a gap the size of Lake Mille Lacs. We followed Snoop Dog’s invitation inside. I admired his “Git ‘er done” logo on the back of his black tee.

I birthed myself through the crowded doorway and began to process the clutter that surrounded me. Having the appearance of an undusted Applebee’s backdrop, the back wall was swarming with “collectables.” Very literally priceless. Snoop Dog began calling out for Jose.

“Whaddya want?” complained a deep voice from an office. “Jose ain’t here; he left an hour ago!”

“These folks are here for they wedding florist consultation. They said they got an appointment with Jose at four o’clock,” Snoop explained.

“Well Jose left an hour ago… whaddya need? I can do this consultation. Hi, I’m the owner of this place. I’ve done ten thousand weddings. Let’s have a seat and we’ll figure this out. Jose ain’t here. He was supposed to be, but he left an hour ago,” said the man.

The owner was an old, crusty, balding man. With only two buttons buttoned on his dirty polo, I became familiar with his harry chest and midriff in no time. I could only imagine my mom’s wide eyes—the stickler for the virtue of modesty on all bodies.

Not adapting her very pristine tone, mom said, “I’m Chris, and this is my daughter Sara. We had an appointment with Jose. I called earlier and he said he would be here--”

“Ooh it’s no problem! We can have a seat here—watch out Meathead!—and get some ideas for your wedding,” the owner said. I noticed a dog. Must be Meathead.

Snoop Dog went outside and came back in with two rusted folding chairs that were still wet from the rain earlier that day. The owner, “Harry Chest,” cleared off a piece of supported ply wood and sat down behind it with a pen in hand.

My mom and I took our seats and exchanged our first eye contact since entering the shop. I didn’t know what to make of her at this point. Did she really believe this place was legit? A diamond in the rough? I crossed my legs to avoid a large box filled with crusty old stuffed animals that was sitting near my feet.

“So when ya’ getting married? I’ve done thousands of weddings before so this is easy for me. I don’t know where Jose went…he was supposed to be here!” Harry explained.

“December 18,” I told him, trying to answer one comment at a time.

“Oh ya, the winter is real nice. So what are you thinking? Red flowers? I got some real pretty red flowers in this book here. This book was about $300. Damn, it was so expensive! But Jose kept insisting we buy it. What the hell, right?”

“I was thinking about red or blue—maybe a combination of both without looking too patriotic.” I said.

Mom had her oversized purse with her that she found at “on sale at Marshalls—“ as though buying a new purse every week was any different than buying one designer purse each season. She opened it up to find the color swatches for the bridesmaid dresses. Various contents from her purse were unloaded (Butter Buds, wet-wipes, a red dinosaur, and a large bottle of water which she carbonated herself at home) on the table in order to find the fabric.

“Here are Sara’s colors, a dark and light blue,” Mom said as she passed the swatches to Harry. She looked unsure about the health of the fabric swatches, as though she just sent her first born to kindergarten. At this point, Harry was clearly unpredictable.

“Oh real pretty,” Harry said. “Yeah I’ve done about ten thousand weddings. I just got so sick of them, you know? So I hired Jose. Ok well what about these flowers?” Harry pointed to a picture of poinsettias in a flower pot wrapped in green tissue.

“Well, I’m looking for something for my bridesmaids to carry, actually,” I said. Ok, there is no redeeming thing about this dump. We gotta get out of here.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Stick to traditional. Man, you should see all the frilly flowers and shit that Jose uses. I mean… he is just so gay,” Harry said.

Wait what did he just say? I was trying to discern if he actually meant “homosexual” gay or “lame” gay.

“You know what I mean? I’m just so sick of all this gay shit. Purple, and feathers. Come on!” Harry said. The dog began to bark violently. “Shut the hell up Meathead! You’re not on duty until six o’clock!” Harry turned back to my mom and I, “Here, let me show you some ideas.” Harry got up and walked to the other side of the store.

My mom looked at me. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. This experience could not be any stranger. Harry came back with a handful of various flowers—roses, hydrangeas, and more.

“Look here, this will be real pretty,” Harry said. Looking around for a shears to cut the long stems, Harry redirected his efforts. Bringing each individual stem to his mouth, he used his teeth to crack the long stem to a proper length. He gathered the well-bitten bouquet and presented it to me with an extended arm.

“It’s… lovely,” I said. It would have been obvious to anyone that I was lying, but thankfully Harry seemed so high that it didn’t phase him.

“Oh good honey, well let’s right up a bid for you,” Harry said. Without much mental calculation, Harry jotted down several numbers. “$475 will do.”

Finally, an opportunity to leave. My mom jumped at it before I had the chance to.

“Great, thank you very much for your time. We will get back to you,” my Mom said.

“Oh yeah, take your time ladies. Damn Jose wasn’t here to help. You know he does all these famous peoples weddings? Ya, he’s from LA or something like that. Here, take these flowers,” Harry said as he handed us both a summer bouquet of flowers.

My mom and I got in the car, as Snoop Dog smiled at us without his front teeth and waved.