Thanks!
I flipped to page seven of the twenty-page questionnaire I was filling out. Each page had the words Love Connection written in calligraphy across the top and the numbers at the bottom were in tiny hearts. It reminded me of a high school algebra exam, only the subject was my love life.
“Finding love should not be this hard,” I said.
"Finding love should not require a place this badly decorated,” was Mia’s response. “Think they could have found a shade closer to Pepto to paint the walls?”
The walls were a bright pink that did kind of remind me of the liquid medicine. We sat in white leather chairs, the plush kind with no arms, about twenty feet away from the receptionist’s desk, which was a semi-circle pushed against a wall. A white door flanked either side of the desk, making a swishing noise every time it swung back and forth, and a silver Love Connection sign, written in the same script as on the questionnaire, hung on the wall between the doors.
Mia elbowed me and pointed to the wall where a spray machine – the same kind they have in funeral homes and bathrooms – emitted sent every few minutes. The spray made the whole place smell like the inside of a carnation.
“I thought it was these things,” she said, grabbing the petal on one of the bouquets on a table next to us. “Turns out they’re frauds. Probably not the only ones in here."
“Finding love should not be this hard,” I said.
"Finding love should not require a place this badly decorated,” was Mia’s response. “Think they could have found a shade closer to Pepto to paint the walls?”
The walls were a bright pink that did kind of remind me of the liquid medicine. We sat in white leather chairs, the plush kind with no arms, about twenty feet away from the receptionist’s desk, which was a semi-circle pushed against a wall. A white door flanked either side of the desk, making a swishing noise every time it swung back and forth, and a silver Love Connection sign, written in the same script as on the questionnaire, hung on the wall between the doors.
Mia elbowed me and pointed to the wall where a spray machine – the same kind they have in funeral homes and bathrooms – emitted sent every few minutes. The spray made the whole place smell like the inside of a carnation.
“I thought it was these things,” she said, grabbing the petal on one of the bouquets on a table next to us. “Turns out they’re frauds. Probably not the only ones in here."
I like the detail of the Pepto pink walls. It made me giggle how cheesy everything is. :)
ReplyDeleteThis was so funny and true for most of those places (I think). The last line about the fake smell and how the flowers were "frauds" and "probably not the only ones here" made my chuckle.
ReplyDeleteFor taste, maybe you could have a dish of hard, heart-shaped candy on the receptionist's desk. And make sure those candy hearts are sour!
ReplyDeletePeople with a keen sense of smell can often taste what they smell.
ReplyDelete