That balloon encouraged me to share my own Valentine's story of decades ago. I was dating a guy in college who bought me all the CVS V-Day accoutrements (yeah, he wasn't a quality man), and one of those included a balloon. But not any balloon. Nay, this balloon was a heart with a maniacal smile printed on its face with those horrible paper accordion arms and legs attached to it. One night I woke up to the sound of the balloon SCRAPING ITS WAY across the room to me in bed, when there was no breeze or windows open or anything. All I saw was the outline of this half-deflated heart and its dangling appendages floating toward me with malice in its heart. Fortunately I had a pair of scissors on the desk next to my bed and I stabbed it repeatedly until crumpled into despair. Then I threw it out in a trashcan down the block for good measure.
That balloon encouraged me to share my own Valentine's story of decades ago. I was dating a guy in college who bought me all the CVS V-Day accoutrements (yeah, he wasn't a quality man), and one of those included a balloon. But not any balloon. Nay, this balloon was a heart with a maniacal smile printed on its face with those horrible paper accordion arms and legs attached to it. One night I woke up to the sound of the balloon SCRAPING ITS WAY across the room to me in bed, when there was no breeze or windows open or anything. All I saw was the outline of this half-deflated heart and its dangling appendages floating toward me with malice in its heart. Fortunately I had a pair of scissors on the desk next to my bed and I stabbed it repeatedly until crumpled into despair. Then I threw it out in a trashcan down the block for good measure.
So yeah, CVS and its Valentine's gifts, amirite?