His birthday is coming up. Soon. Well, soonish. April. What an evening you have planned. And to call it an evening is an understatement. Really. You have tickets to see Van Morrison. And James Hunter. In Chicago. It won't just be an evening. It will be an event. The best.
You have it all planned. To a T. You'll be working in Chicago that week. He is already planning to fly in Thursday afternoon. For a long weekend. And he really wanted to see Hunter and Morrison. So much. Hasn't seen Morrison since his college days. And that has been some time ago. Years. Well. OK. A decade. Or two. But by the time he heard about the show, the shows – all three – were sold out, except for a straggly seat here or there. And a few that cost more than he wanted to spend. Much, much more. Poor darling, you commiserated. You pretended to be sad. So sad.
But you, you clever minx you. You had already purchased two tickets. Second row, center. He is going to be so surprised. You'll treat him to dinner first. Be such a sympathetic listener when he bemoans that he is so close to the concert, and yet, so far. So very, very far.
Then, over dessert, you'll give him a box, wrapped so nicely. He'll open it. And he will be so surprised. So happy. Delighted, in fact.
And then he will look at you, dressed in McCall's 3499, with its lovely bow. And he will know you are the very best gift of all.
This beauty can be yours. At The Blue Gardenia, where you'll find vintage sewing patterns fit for the snootiest fashionista.