Everything romantic about Alpine is on a cliff, and the cliff belongs to a park. State Line Lookout sits at the borough's northern edge where New Jersey becomes New York; the Women's Federation Monument, the small stone tower the New Jersey State Federation of Women's Clubs raised in 1929 to mark the campaign that stopped the quarrying of the Palisades, stands further down the ridge; the Shore Trail runs along the water below; and at the foot of the switchback on Closter Dock Road are the Alpine Boat Basin and the eighteenth-century Kearney House. That is where people in this borough actually walk on a good evening, and it is where a fair number of proposals happen. It is also, in every case, a park setting rather than a delivery address — no reception, no staff to hold anything, gates that close with the season and the light, and a descent to the river that is steep enough that a van has no business attempting it with a vase. If the moment is happening down there, the flowers travel with you. Buy them early, keep them cool in the car, and carry them.
Which leaves the second Alpine problem: there is nowhere in 07620 to stage a surprise. No coffee shop, no bar, no restaurant, no hotel lobby, no reception desk, no apartment building with a doorman — the borough has effectively no commercial premises at all, so the trick that works in most towns, having flowers waiting somewhere neutral, has no venue here. The closest thing to a third place is over the borough line entirely — the Vervalen Street blocks at Closter Plaza, or County Road in Tenafly, both roughly ten minutes out. Inside 07620 the realistic options narrow to three. Send to the house, and accept that somebody has to be standing in it. Send to the workplace, which for Alpine means somewhere else entirely. Or collect the flowers yourself on the way, which for a same-day order means having them built by a shop you can actually reach before the evening.
The workplace surprise is frequently the smarter play here, for the simple reason that nobody's workplace is in Alpine. The borough has no commercial building at all, so the desk drop belongs to Sylvan Avenue, the stretch of Route 9W three miles down the ridge in Englewood Cliffs where Ferrari North America, LG Electronics USA and CNBC all keep addresses. No bridge, no toll, no highway merge between there and 07620 — which makes it the best-timed romantic delivery this ZIP can buy. The other direction is Manhattan. A large share of the borough commutes over the George Washington Bridge, and the right move then is to stop treating the order as a New Jersey one: enter the office address in New York and a shop already working those streets builds and walks it, instead of a Bergen County van idling on an approach ramp on the evening of the 14th with one bunch of roses in the back. Either way, what the order needs is the company name, the floor or suite, and the recipient's name in the form the front desk holds it — and an early slot, since most of these lobbies stop taking perishable deliveries a long while before the building itself shuts.