Yeah, I’m actually not that into Valentine’s Day – I learned through trial and error long ago that it’s never going to live up to expectations (whether you’re in a relationship or not), so it’s not even worth trying. Hence, I make a conscious effort to do nothing on the 14th of February.
Don’t get me wrong, I think the idea of setting aside one day a year simply to remind people to say ‘I love you’ is actually kind of nice, but let’s also be very clear here: Valentine’s Day is a made-up holiday that generally pisses more people off than it makes happy. And this is coming from someone who got chocolates AND cupcakes yesterday. (Sidenote: Sweets are so much better than flowers.)
But I digress, this post is really just about a nice little look back at two of my more memorable Valentine’s Days – one good and one bad – to a) show that I’ve seen this “holiday” from all sides, and hopefully explain why I now choose to spend it alone (even when I’m in a relationship); yes I’m weird, and b) give yet another example of my hideous taste in men and hopefully entertain you people.
I was dating this guy years ago – he was fine, a little flaky but overall a nice guy – and lo and behold, Valentine’s Day rolled around about 4 months into our relationship. Mr. Flaky, being….um, flaky I guess, sort of blanked on it. And this was way back when I still had certain Valentine’s Day expectations. Essentially what happened was I showed up at his apartment (no, he didn’t come to me, that would have been too thoughtful), only to be greeted with ‘I uh, didn’t make any reservations anywhere. And my roommate just told me we wouldn’t be able to just show up someplace. Sooo, uh…what do you want to do?’
Anyway, since I couldn’t very well call him a moron to his face (no, even I’m not that mean), I instead tried to remain positive while looking around for flowers, candy, something, ANYTHING. But (as I’m sure you already realize) there was nothing like that around. Still, I didn’t give up (ah, to be young and stupid again – oh fuck it, I might as well admit that the guy was really cute and that counted for more than it should have back then …I was only human!).
I instead went and took a seat on his couch and watched him take bong hits while he struggled to ‘think’ of something for us to do on Valentine’s Day.
Finally, after about 2 hours of this, we just piled into his car and went for a drive. At some point we got hungry and stopped at a diner. In the middle of nowhere (seriously, we had driven for a while and were far from home). And that’s when it happened – we sat down in this little Mom & Pop diner, late at night on Valentine’s Day, and actually looked around. And we found that we were surrounded by these little old couples, from this small town, and everyone looked so…in love. And they were at a DINER. (Yes, I’m a snob, but I swear I have a point.) The point was, they were at this diner – probably the only restaurant in this small town – and they didn’t care. They didn’t care where they were, they only cared who they were with. And somehow, even though I had always known what was important and what wasn’t, it really hit home that night. Because they were right. This little diner was romantic for that one night. And as cheesy as it sounds now, I still get a little mushy inside thinking about it. So shut up and back off.
Anyway, long story short Mr. Flaky and I ended up having a great night. Once we walked into the diner it was like we both exhaled, relaxed, and actually took the time to enjoy each other’s company. To this day that’s my favorite Valentine’s memory.
The next year Mr. Flaky and I were still together (I know, I know), and he pulled out all the stops getting me 2 dozen roses, chocolates, dinner reservations, etc. And honestly, the day kind of sucked. We broke up shortly afterward. So you see, it’s not the STUFF that counts, it’s the person. (Now I just need to find one that’s worthwhile.)
This story doesn’t even deserve a good set-up. Suffice it to say I once dated a guy who had the nerve to ask me, on the night of Valentine’s Day, if he could blow off our plans to spend the night hanging with his buddies. Not to get too into my reaction, but let’s just say it wasn’t good. And this guy didn’t end up spending the night with his buddies. Nor did he spend it with me in my bed. Or with me at a restaurant. No, he spent it sitting in the hallway outside my apartment groveling.
The groveling didn’t work.
So those are my Valentine’s stories, is it any wonder that I choose to simply take all the pressure off and avoid the holiday now? But what about you guys? Does anyone have any of their own stories that are better (or worse). I gave The Good and The Bad – who has The Ugly?