 My first date almost turned out to be my last.
I was a "grown-up" of eleven, just
about to graduate from elementary school and I had asked Missy Sorenson to a Church dance.
The tip of my finger was literally black from all the times I dialed her number and then
hung up before it rang… (Gad… remember dial phones!?!). But finally I got up the
nerve to ask her about a month before the big night. To my shock, she said okay.
I spent most of my car wash money on a
single rose, which I wanted to give her after my Mom was to drop me off at her porch, (I
wanted to walk up there all by myself) to pick her up. Okay, we all know where this story
is going.
She had already left to go to the dance with
my best friend, who asked her that very morning, leaving me in the dust! I threw the rose
away and was in a daze for God knows how long, swearing off women forever. However a week
later I found the rose. My Mom had recovered it and had it sprayed with some kind of gold
paint.
There was a note from my Mom, which read:
"No one can truly break a heart as big as yours". Yeah… so it was sort of
corny and all. But, hey I was eleven, my heart was broken, and my Mom never did anything
like that before (or since). It got to me, and I've kept that rose ever since. Recently I
found it, and amazingly, the painted rose looked just like the morning I found it on my
nightstand! I thought what a better combination than a knife at one end, and an exact
replica of my "bleeding rose" on the other. What does that mean, exactly? You
draw your own conclusions. Point is… it makes for a great looking knife. Actually,
this could very well be a lady's knife.
They do like them as gifts, you know (hint,
hint).
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