How not to surprise your wife

Kat and I are going to be married for 14 years next week. I like getting her flowers sometimes. I got a spam in the mail from this morning with a good deal on roses. Score! I’ll order it now while I think about it.

Kat and I have our computers in the same room but she can’t see my screen and I can’t see hers. No problem — I can quietly order flowers five feet away from her, and she’ll never know. I ask what her freelance work schedule is next week; she suspects nothing. I enter all the data quietly and it’s set up. Click here to confirm your order. Order confirmed!

Suddenly, after a completely silent ordering process, the speakers erupt. “THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER!” announces a cheery pop-up ad. A pop-up ad? A TALKING pop-up ad? Did I order flowers from 2005? And it won’t stop. “BE SURE TO SIGN UP FOR 15% OFF YOUR NEXT ORDER…”

Happy Sales Lady is in the middle of a sentence and I think I know where she’s going. I’m frantically trying to close this pop-up window. Naturally, it starts to MOVE. Yeah — it just scrolls its way down the screen, as I try to hit its “close” button. Which means I’m ordering flowers from 2001 instead. If they are stupid enough to do this, they’re stupid enough to announce the name of the site before the end of this. If I can just close it before Happy Sales Lady completes her sentence…


“You don’t have to get me flowers,” says Kat. Maybe not, but they don’t have to TELL YOU I’m getting you flowers, either.

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