A romantic delivery is the only kind where arriving early can be as wrong as arriving late. Nobody wants roses sitting on a porch for six hours next to the recycling, and nobody wants them turning up while the recipient is in the shower getting ready to go out. So the useful question in Audubon is not which day — it is what time the person comes home, and how they get here. The borough has no PATCO station; the Speedline stops at Westmont and at Collingswood, a few minutes north, which means an Audubon commuter to Philadelphia either drives to one of those lots and walks back to a car at the end of the day, or drives a bridge. Either way the front door opens somewhere between five and seven, and a delivery aimed at the back half of the afternoon is the one that gets the reaction you paid for. Order in the morning, ask for the latest window the shop offers, and give the recipient's mobile number — not so the driver can spoil it, but so he does not stand on the wrong half of a shared porch guessing.
Those shared porches deserve a line of their own on this page, because a romantic order is the one you least want misdelivered. Audubon is a square mile and a half of twins and narrow singles, and a twin puts two front doors on one set of covered steps. A vase left on the correct porch and the wrong side of it is a gift your neighbour receives. Write left or right, or the porch side, into the notes. The flip side is that the same architecture makes Audubon one of the easier places in the county for a surprise: covered steps out of the weather, no gates, no lobby, no doorman, no code — if the timing is right, the delivery works with nobody involved but the driver. In an apartment or a two-family conversion along the White Horse Pike, add the unit and a buzzer name, since the Pike buildings are the one place in the borough where a driver can be defeated by the front door.
Where the evening itself happens shapes the order more than most senders expect. Five minutes north, Collingswood's Haddon Avenue is the restaurant row this side of the river is known for, and it is a bring-your-own-bottle street because the town does not license liquor — which is precisely why so many small rooms opened there. Haddonfield, out Kings Highway, is dry as well and lines its restaurants along that street. The Camden waterfront is ten minutes up the Pike, with the battleship, the aquarium, the seasonal ferry across to Penn's Landing and the riverfront amphitheatre in summer. Center City is five miles and a bridge away and takes the big reservations. In every one of those cases the flowers should be at the house before the couple leaves, not at the venue: a restaurant on a Saturday night has nowhere to put a vase, a hostess stand is not a delivery address, and an arrangement handed over at eight has to survive a dining room, a car and a bridge. If the night includes a hotel room on the Route 70 corridor in Cherry Hill or out toward Route 73 and Mount Laurel, that is the exception — send it there, with the registered guest's name and the arrival date, and expect a front-desk handoff rather than a room drop.