true romance: it’s not the thought that counts

Even in Cash Life, things don’t always go according to plan.  This can happen in a variety of ways, but the most surprising is in the realm of romance.  When I plan a date or activity for my marvelous girlfriend, I leave nothing to chance.  Ideas come weeks, sometimes months in advance, giving me plenty of time to get everything ready.  Still, there are occasions where something falls through.  Usually at the last second.  Sometimes, these are big things.  The coolest part of an evening.  The perfect item to compliment the experience.  A store being out of something they’ve had in stock all week (fuck you, Walgreens).

How do I respond?  

How do I let her down easy about what might have been?

I don’t.

She’s none the wiser, yet all the happier, for my silence.

Most people?  Arn’t so smart.

They still believe the cliche “it’s the thought that counts..”

Guess what?

It isn’t.

Telling someone there was a better activity / gift / experience in store that somehow fell through does two things.  First, it casts a shadow on the actual experience at hand.  Subconsciously, the other person will feel disappointed they didn’t get to enjoy whatever potential awesomeness had been planned.  Second, it casts a shadow on you.  Your resourcefulness.  Your planning.

Instead, consider it an opportunity.  For a future surprise.  Another great date.  A chance to get it right.

Next time.

The one exception?   Something so far fetched it barely had a chance of happening to begin with.  Something so incredible, it would have made their year.  Something you worked your ass off for, but, for whatever reason, couldn’t make happen.

An non-romantic example;

A year and a half ago or so my friend Tracy went out with a group of people he barely knew.  A group of uh “party people”.  The festivities found their way to his place.  His guests however, were heartbroken.  They’d lost an eight ball.  Of the non-billiards variety.  Eventually, they passed out on his couch.  Tracy tiptoed out and made his way to the garage.  The garage where he spent the next 2 hours tearing apart his car.

Floor mats, thrown.

Trunk, emptied.

Seats, scoured.

Why?  He thought the lost goods were probably there.  Not being an imbiber himself, he planned to retrieve them.  For me.

I’m forever grateful for his valiant efforts, even though he came up empty handed.  In this case, it was in fact ‘the thought that counts’.

In most cases?  Not even close.