My American Dream

I lived in Chicago for two years as a temp. When I worked in the Loop ("downtown"), I'd walk to the El ("elevated train") to go home and pass a flower shop with bouquets displayed on the sidewalk. It made me sad to think that there was no girl waiting at home whom I could surprise with flowers. More than anything I wanted to buy a bouquet of any kind of flower, carry it on the El with a big grin on my face in the sea of guarded strangers and bring it home to my sweetheart, accompanied by those magical words: "Honey, I'm home!" I know it's corny, but I think that's all I've ever really wanted. My artistic and entertainment ambitions seem like passing fancies by comparison. I know they wouldn't sustain me.