(It’s Valentine’s Day, the year 20 (?) …. (?) Anyway, the year doesn’t matter.)
Yellow Car: (Drive, drive, drive, drive, drive.)
Street:(Lay there, lay there, lay there. Flattened by all the cars.)
(A clean-shaven young man driving a yellow VW Beetle, smiling, singing after a Stone Temple Pilots song on the radio. He softly taps his fingers on steering wheel—an imaginary drummer, this one is. In the back seat, a box of chocolates and a dozen red roses.)
Dozen Red:(Upbeat mood) Well hello there box of chocolates, haven’t seen you since last year. How’ve you been?
Chocolates:(Sounding down, sighs.)… Things ain’t lookin’ so great these days… Ever since women started dieting all the time…
Roses:(Chipper) Aaaww man, chin up, it can’t be that bad. You’re a once-a-year special treat! Who couldn’t break a diet once a year?
Chocolates: (Spoken slowly, sadly.) You’d be surprised, chocolate’s on its way out... Women today want diamonds and iPods and cards and flowers… and cars, not chocolate. My Uncle Jimmy, he used to be the best in the line—all the ladies were after him… but today nobody wants him... he sits on the couch day after day, in a stained t-shirt watching I Love Lucy reruns… I Love Lucy reruns all the time… He took up smoking again after 14 years… He doesn’t say much anymore, it used to be you couldn’t shut him up, so annoying sometimes… And he’s starting to drink a lot…
Roses: Aw c’mon man. It can’t be that bad. Maybe he’s just in a bad year. Maybe he’s getting a little over the hill and should think about retiring. But you... you’re young. And you’re a good box, too. Godiva. Not any of those cheap brands, See's or Russell Stover. … You’re a Godiva, man!… And it’s Valentine’s Day, after all.
Chocolates: (Brightening) Yeah? You really think so?
Roses:(Encouraging) You bet!
Chocolates:(Happily) Ok! Maybe you’re right!
(Car arrives in front of apartment. Man gets out. We see he’s wearing green shirt with "Karen’s Florist" (minus the quotation marks) over left breast. He takes out chocolates and flowers, still humming radio tunes, walks up stairs, rings doorbell. Attractive young woman answers. A smile spreads her face when she sees flowers and chocolates. Polite greetings, handing over merchandise, then the man leaves. Walking toward the kitchen, she rests the box of chocolates on the kitchen counter as she gently sniffs the flowers, then pushes buttons into a Donald Duck-shaped phone.)
Phone: Riiiing! Riiiing!
Male voice: Stevenson Accounting, this is Rick. How may I help you?
Lady: Oh, Rick! You spoil me!… The roses, they’re beautiful. But chocolates? You know my weakness for Godiva, and I’m dieting!
Rick: You have a beautiful figure, honey, nothing a few little chocolates will harm.
Lady: Well… Okay, you talked me into it. (A little giggle.) They do look delicious!
Rick: Thaaat’s my girl… Oh hey look I gotta go —Mr. Stevenson just came in!… But I’ll see you tonight, right? Pick you up at 8?
Lady:(Sparkling laughter from a beautiful voice.) Can’t wait to see you at 8… And I bought something special to wear for tonight. …
Rick: Can’t wait to see you in it. (mischievous snicker) Or out of it. …
(They hang up. The lady sniffs roses again. Smiling, she picks them up, moves them to the center of the dining room table. She picks up the box of chocolates, contemplating. Finally decided, she tosses it into the garbage.)