My Hallmark Hero

You would think that now that I am a "wife" to a guy we should all give an award to for patience in the line of marriage, I would be over the "I need an obnoxious number of roses sent to my office on Valentine's Day to validate my love life and therefore my self esteem in front of my colleagues." But after a long morning of other women receiving flowers with balloons and bears, I found myself angrily eating a salad at my desk at 2pm in a fury because my husband had yet to send me anything red, pink or large for my desk.

Lets face it, I was jealous of the other girls. I was especially jealous of one particular girl who received two dozen roses with a special Valentine's edition Chanel lipstick tied to a bear's heart that read "sh*t b*tch you is fine." A little dirty talk, a little Chanel. Now THAT Valentine's gift should have been mine!

I am the kind of girl that tells my man, "don't worry about sending me flowers. I don't need them. I know you love me." But I am also the kind of girl that by 2pm is feeling like exploding with frustration that all I got today was a heart-shaped lollipop that I bought for myself at Duane Reade.

Just as I was about to email my dear husband and tell him of my disappointment and remind him that the phone number to 1800Flowers is 1-800-Flowers, my receptionist called me to tell me that I had a flower delivery downstairs. After skipping to the front desk with a smile, ripping open my package and plunging the two dozen long stemmed red roses into water, I "humbly" carried them and took the long way around the office to my desk, making sure to slow down any time I passed anyone with Valentine's Day goodies at their station, glancing over to make sure my roses were met with eyes of envy.

I sat down feeling giddy with joy and also a little silly. Who was I to want flowers so badly and why did I care so much? Am I THAT shallow? Aren't roses cliche for Valentine's Day and aren't I against all things cliche? And isn't love about the love and not the stuff that people give to show love? I pondered this thought while staring at my roses and wondering if I had been swallowed up by the mass V-Day hysteria, and given in to a Hallmark holiday that used to mean a lonely night home with Burritoville and my cat.

It seems that I am finally comfortable enough with myself to just admit the truth. My husband has given me the foundation of love and support that I need in order to come out with it once and for all. I need flowers on Valentine's Day. Red ones, roses, and two dozen is a great starting place. I am okay being one of the many today, and to be a bit of a Valentine's Day cliche, because today is the first February 14th that to someone, a very special someone, I am the only one and to him, I am FAR from cliche.

Lunch with Danny Meyer and Snooki

Being the "professional" business woman that I am, I recently took clients to a business lunch at a business lunch fav in New York City, Union Square Cafe. I love Danny Meyer and find that he does fancy food in an approachable way, and by approachable I mean that there is more than a bite of food on the plate and it doesn't cost $40 for an entree.

I have dined there many times before, most of the time with a glass of pinot grigio in hand, but this time the clients order iced teas so I appropriately, but begrudgingly, followed suit. After taking down the bread basket and breaking the ice off of the old, "where are you from", "where do you live now" conversations, we dived into my favorite subject matter, the popular television show, The Jersey Shore.

I am not quite sure how it came up, probably after the usual client to Lauren question, "how are you so unseasonably tan?" or I was reminded of the Snookster from the orangey bronzer smudges on my perfectly ironed white napkin. Either way, by the time we started to split the frito misto of cod and perfectly molded meatball in a bath of white bean puree, we were all fist pumping and acting out scenes from the most recent episode.

As we were re-hashing the Sammi "Sweetheart" mean punch to Ron Ron's face when he became "GTL" allies with Jwoww behind her back, our sweet, demure, girl-next-door-looking waitress stopped by for a re-fill on our iced teas. When she overheard the Jersey Shore convo, she nearly dropped her pitcher. I had just finished saying, "can you believe that Sammi hit Ronnnie?" to the group I was dining with, to which our waitress yelled "NO, I totally couldn't believe it!!! OMG!! I love the Jersey Shore!!!!" She had transformed before our eyes. She went from a soft tone, to speaking loudly with a NJ accent (real?), and her posture slumped over a bit, she was talking with her hands A LOT and went from quiet to quite possibly the biggest Jersey Shore fan I have ever met.

She told us her name (will not provide her name so as to protect her privacy and her job), and that she was obsessed with the show. She then went on to tell us that she started dating her boyfriend because he was "DTF" (if you don't know what that stands for, look it up on Urban Dictionary and don't tell anyone I told you). She also said that this was the "best day of her life at work" because we too loved "The Shore" as she did.

Each time she came over to the table, serving us fennel-spiced tuna and Atlantic cod, the posh, low-volume, high-end restaurant that Danny Meyer worked so hard to make just that way became a Jersey Shore-athon. While we sipped on jasmine tea and split the biscotti and cookie platter for dessert, we discussed with our waitress how only Snooki can get away with wearing pink fuzzy slippers everywhere, including to the bar and to work, and that her recent face plant into the sand while intoxicated (and later arrested), was the highlight of season 3 thus far.

I couldn't help but sit in astonishment at the dichotomy that was unfolding. Before today, Danny Meyer and Snooki had nothing in common. But on this day, in Seinfeld's words, worlds collided, and I had lunch at one of the top restaurants in NYC while discussing the tanning and drinking habits of 23 year olds living on a boardwalk.

We asked for our check from our now friend and waitress, who enthusiastically brought it out. Upon looking at our check, which should have been pricey, we realized that she had taken off all 3 of our appetizers, all of our iced-teas, and our desserts and tea. She winked and told us to come back anytime and that she will always hook up her fellow Jersey Shore fans and thanked us for the entertainment. We slipped her a tip to show our appreciation and paid our discounted check, and walked to the door.

Standing alongside of the dark wood bar of Danny Meyer's pride and joy restaurant and NYC iconic culinary gem, I hugged my clients goodbye instead of shaking their hands as I did when we met 2 hours earlier. We had become so much more over our decadent feast at Union Square Cafe, it just seemed like the right way to part. And if I do get the business, I know I have someone else to thank for that aside from my clients. I would thank the waitress that did what only she could do, and probably no one else could ever or will ever accomplish again: She brought Danny Meyer to The Jersey Shore. Thank you.