Valentine Vignette

A man, holding a bar of chocolate and a card like he thinks they might explode, steps up to the cash register at the Hallmark store. The salesclerk says: “Now, we have some pre-made gift bags, so you can take one of ours, or you can choose your own and we’ll make it up for you.”

He looks, not like a deer in the headlights exactly, because he’s less panicked than woeful, more like a basset hound, certain that any bag he selects will, somehow, be wrong. “Whateveryouthinkbest,” he mumbles, and waits for the clerk to decide.

Hoping your day is less fraught resigned.