I like to write
Following the great snowpacalypse the DC-area experienced yesterday, I walked outside to finally try to find my car today underneath all of the snow, to surprisingly find that Marshall, this old black man who lives across the street, had shoveled half of it for me already. I have seen him before but today we spoke for the first time. He told me he only did half cause, “I don’t know you like that,” and he didn’t know if I’d be weirded out by his shoveling it for me.
I was like, “WEIRDED OUT? I AM HAPPY!” So he shoveled the rest of it (it was over a foot of snow!) and told me he is 50 and sometimes smokes joints. “Do you know what a joint is?,” he asked me, his face getting close to mine, very seriously. And I was like, “Yeah I know what a joint is!” In fact, I used to be the joint queen!
Then after I gave him ten dollars for his kindness (he wanted five), Marshall, with a twinkle in his eye said, “Maybe we can talk sometime,” to which I told him, “You are funny, Marshall,” as I drove off into the sun in my now snowless-covered car.
And that is how I inadvertently landed a snow-shoveling Valentine on Valentine’s Day.
I love old people. They are the best.
Amended: And then Cupid came to collect. A few hours later, Old Man Valentine came knocking at my door, telling me I should have given him ten more dollars. I told him I had no more cash (and I didn’t). Alas, even Cupid charges interest on Valentine’s Day.