Margot Berwin's Hothouse Flower and the 9 Plants of Desire
I made it all the way to page 162 before deciding this book wasn't going to get any less ridiculous. I thought the beginning parts--where a woman working in advertising in NYC meets a mysterious man with a greenhouse in a laundromat, but then tells some other dude she's trying to bone about the laundromat's man secret stash of valuable plants and of course that guy steals them, so then she has to help replace them--were all just a convoluted way of getting the protagonist to go on a journey of self-discovery to Mexico. But things didn't get any better, narrative-wise, once she got there--the usual magical mystical natives were helping her on her quest, and she's mostly annoying and horny, and it's just not any fun.
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