The worst romantic gift I got was from my first “real” boyfriend. We’d been going out for a couple months by this time and had been friends for more than a year, so you’d think he’d know me.
Well, for Christmas he got me a book of poetry. As he handed it to me, he paused and pulled it back. Then he opened a corner, checked what was inside and handed it back to me saying, “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t get yours mixed up with the one I’m giving my sister.” [He was giving basically the same gift to several people–I was just another on the list of gifts he gave no thought to.]
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