He hands me a set of keys. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”
I observe the creepy metal structure in front of us. It looks like an unexploded bomb. His eyes dance. “You said you wanted to get away from it all!”
“You bought me a submarine?” I try to picture myself ‘relaxing,’ hunched over inside the tiny glass bubble, tons of seawater above me.
My friend Eleanor’s husband got her a handbag and a nice pair of shoes for her birthday.
Later that evening, I Google the cost of the submarine. $95,000.00! A waste on every level!
I just wanted a spa day.