Thank you, please

I hold doors open for people all the time. Sometimes it’s an inconvenience. You know, when you’ve already walked quite some way but see someone coming and hang back in a sort of limbo, holding the door with just a few fingers and an act of balance. But they say “thanks.” And I let people out at junctions when I’m driving. I can be there for a while, just waving people through. They nod. Sometimes they mouth the words. But it’s usually “thank you”. (Once it I think it was, “what are you doing? I saw you here an hour ago!”) And you know, if you’re in my office, and I’m making a cup of tea, I’ll make you one. And you’ll probably say thanks. But these are minor gestures really. Small acts of kindness. Nothing a little appreciation doesn’t make worthwhile. So imagine, if one day, you do all those things – those little things – and add to them one grand gesture. And then no “thank you”.

You see, I met this girl...And so many stories start this way, but this one doesn’t end in tears, or a fleeing to America, or a restraining order. This girl, and I think I’ve mentioned her already, I met in Miami (so we were already in America – no fleeing necessary) and, frankly, we hooked up for the time I was there. Nothing serious. I mean, we did get on (and ‘it on’), and exchanged contact details and all that, but, of course, had no realistic plan to see each other again. She did however ask me to call her some time for a chat, but I got the impression that she didn’t really think that I would. And, in fairness, I didn’t.

But, last week, when Cinco de Maya struck (if you don’t know, a sort of Mexican holiday where there’s lots of beer and Gringos are killed and eaten), I thought to send a case of Corona to her home in Ohio. I thought it’d be a kind gesture. Like a ‘I-had-a-great-time-haven’t-forgotten-you-the-results-were-negative-from-the-clinic’ type thing. But it turns out, such are the laws in Ohio, that it’s incredibly difficult, if illegal, to order alcohol online. And so, with the determination to send something, I ordered flowers, albeit roses, but not red and not with a note worth noting. I didn’t mention the clinic, but did allude to the great time we had together and my original, though unhatched, plan to send her a case of beer. It was kind of funny actually and, at least I thought, sweet. And certainly deserving of a “thank you”.

But here we are. Not a phone call. Not an e-mail. Not even a nod. No “thanks” whatsoever. But it’s not like I’m going to ask for one. (If I did, I would probably say “please.”) And so, as my good friend Beth kindly calculates the ludicrous cost per rose of this grand gesture, and I wonder if I might get a refund, I ask you, dear reader: when did a “thank you” require a “please”?