Explaining It Until You’re Pink And Purple

| Working | October 19, 2016

(I ring up the florist to order a small posy of flowers for my grandmother’s grave for the first anniversary of her death. I asked for the posy to be exclusively pink. This is deliberate as my gran was known as ‘The Lady in Pink.’ I’m only eighteen and really emotional about the anniversary since I had been really close to my gran. I call into the florist after work that evening.)

Me: *walking up to the counter* “Hi! I ordered a posy earlier under the name [My Name] and I’m here to collect and pay for it.”

Florist #1: “Great, it’s just over here.” *fetches posy* “That will be €50, please.”

Me: *sees that posy is mainly purple and white with only two pink flowers present* “Oh! I’m sorry, this one can’t be mine. I ordered a pink posy?”

Florist #1: “Oh… Let me check with [Florist #2]. She dealt with the orders earlier…”

Me: “Yes, please!”

Florist #2: *approaching me with a scowl* “What’s the problem?”

Me: *recognizing her voice from the phone* “Hi, I called earlier and ordered a pink posy. I think I was talking to you about it and—”

Florist #2: “Yeah? There it is. What’s wrong with that one?” *pointing to purple posy*

Me: “I don’t think so… I asked for pink and white flowers only. I hate to be a bother, but it’s important that the posy is pink. Is there any way of taking the purple flowers out and replacing them with pink?”

Florist #2: “For f**** sake! There’s nothing wrong with that one! I can’t bloody well take anything out! I’d have to make a whole new one for you!”

Me: “Well, I can come back later to collect it if that’s the case? I need it to be pink.”

Florist #2: “That’s not happening! Who are you to be complaining to me? I never get complaints! I’ve had a terrible day and here you are giving me a hard time!”

Me: *apologetically* “I’m sorry, but it’s really important to me… It’s for my gran’s—”

Florist #2: “Your granny will live if she gets some f****** purple flowers!! Get her pink the next time!”

Me: *finally raising my voice* “It’s for my grandmother’s GRAVE!”

Florist #2: *rolls eyes* “Then she won’t know they’re purple, will she?”

(At that point I was in tears from being shouted at and from the florist’s insensitivity so I fled from the shop. I was so upset afterwards that I had to call my mother to collect me and drive my car home for me. I couldn’t bring myself to buy flowers for her grave this year after that drama so I opted to buy a teddy bear for her instead.)

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