Every rose may have its thorn, but unfortunately not every thorn has its rose. Such is the case with Valentine’s Day, a day destined to make you profoundly uncomfortable, whether you are in a relationship, swinging through singledom or somewhere in between. If you’re dating, February 14th becomes a kind of romantic pissing contest. Inevitably, someone is the romance winner and someone is the despicable romance loser who must spend the next 364 days atoning for his or her paltry offering of daisies, baby’s breath and musical card. Romeo chugged some Drano for love so in the spirit of competition, Juliet must off herself with a rusty butter knife. The only bright spot in all this coagulate gore is that neither one of them will have to shop at the Hallmark store ever again.
Being single on Valentine’s Day is comparable to being the lone analyst in the world’s most diabolically pink asylum. Some of the patients are euphoric, others hysterical and even more are deluded, but they are all united in believing that their collective lunacy is far preferable to being single. It becomes necessary for even the most sentimental of singles to adopt a stance of indifference or cynical amusement if only to avoid being straitjacketed oneself. Helpful and cleansing activities on Valentine’s Day include playing darts, bowling, taking a few playful pokes at one’s voodoo doll with a particularly sharp knitting needle and watching Evil Dead whilst eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s finest iced cream. Comfort yourself with the knowledge that while you may be lonesome on occasion, lonely aloneness is far better than loony togetherness.
Finally, we must consider the people whose love lives are virtually ripped from French cinema. Everything is exceedingly complicated and frequently wreathed in smoke. Valentine’s Day can only be painful for someone who needs the rough equivalent of a Flaubert novel to explain his or her relationship status. It is difficult to determine whether a card is necessary for the friend with benefits, the occasional mistress or the off-again, on-again lova with whom bickering inevitably leads to sex and sex inevitably leads to bickering. While Miss Manners would undoubtedly advocate sending a pleasant note to the person whose genitals you’re spending time with twice a week, what should you actually write? Here let’s give it the college try: “Hi, Janet. Thank you for liking me enough for sex but not liking me enough to try and make me hold hands in public. That’s awesome. Respectfully, Howard.” You see? Awkward. Even if you genuinely care about said person, the toxicity of Valentine’s Day will cause you to appear either willfully blasé or terrifyingly clingy.It is inevitable that you will either do far too much or far too little, significantly decreasing your odds of amicable commitment-free debauchery. The only graceful and practical solution for people in positions like this is to fake one’s own kidnapping on Feb 13th and then mysteriously materialize on Feb 15th bound and gagged in the back of a warehouse.
Being single on Valentine’s Day is comparable to being the lone analyst in the world’s most diabolically pink asylum. Some of the patients are euphoric, others hysterical and even more are deluded, but they are all united in believing that their collective lunacy is far preferable to being single. It becomes necessary for even the most sentimental of singles to adopt a stance of indifference or cynical amusement if only to avoid being straitjacketed oneself. Helpful and cleansing activities on Valentine’s Day include playing darts, bowling, taking a few playful pokes at one’s voodoo doll with a particularly sharp knitting needle and watching Evil Dead whilst eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s finest iced cream. Comfort yourself with the knowledge that while you may be lonesome on occasion, lonely aloneness is far better than loony togetherness.
Finally, we must consider the people whose love lives are virtually ripped from French cinema. Everything is exceedingly complicated and frequently wreathed in smoke. Valentine’s Day can only be painful for someone who needs the rough equivalent of a Flaubert novel to explain his or her relationship status. It is difficult to determine whether a card is necessary for the friend with benefits, the occasional mistress or the off-again, on-again lova with whom bickering inevitably leads to sex and sex inevitably leads to bickering. While Miss Manners would undoubtedly advocate sending a pleasant note to the person whose genitals you’re spending time with twice a week, what should you actually write? Here let’s give it the college try: “Hi, Janet. Thank you for liking me enough for sex but not liking me enough to try and make me hold hands in public. That’s awesome. Respectfully, Howard.” You see? Awkward. Even if you genuinely care about said person, the toxicity of Valentine’s Day will cause you to appear either willfully blasé or terrifyingly clingy.It is inevitable that you will either do far too much or far too little, significantly decreasing your odds of amicable commitment-free debauchery. The only graceful and practical solution for people in positions like this is to fake one’s own kidnapping on Feb 13th and then mysteriously materialize on Feb 15th bound and gagged in the back of a warehouse.
Cupid has his chubby finger poised on the nuclear detonator of Love and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Although, Iranian police have torn down heart-themed shop decorations and Indian Hindu Nationalist Party members have gone so far as to burn greeting cards en masse, Western commercial holiday madness will inevitably prevail. Why? Well, everyone’s got to go home eventually and there’s going to be hell to pay if you aren’t armed with a few compliments and a pricey box of chocolates.
1 comment:
I agree totally with everything here. If anything, you're not hateful enough. I faked a year-long trip to India just to get out of Valentine's Day awkwardness! Also Christmas. My plan next year is to get hit by a bus. Out-hate that, bizzle!
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