So, Maybe Cupid Doesn’t Suck
February 16th, 2010I know you’re dying to know if my phone rang this weekend. Well, I’ll save you the anticipation. You were right. I was right. We were right. It didn’t. A few times I actually had to do the old school pick up to see if it was working. It was. But it didn’t ring. Not once. It was as if the world came to an end on Thursday night when it went radio silence and it didn’t resume again until Monday. And honestly – that was fine with me.
I spent Valentine’s Day weekend doing exactly what I needed to be doing – my taxes. And you know what? I really didn’t mind a bit. I know my disdain for February 14th in my last post may have rubbed a few people the wrong way, but as I sit here in the aftermath, I have to admit, I am overjoyed that I don’t have so much as a bruise on me when I know there are a million poor women who were turned into Valentine’s Day road kill.
And the collateral damage was everywhere: My married friends shrugged off their disappointment saying, “My husband really isn’t into Valentine’s Day and likes to make me feel special on other days” or “We go out in advance because the restaurant prices are outrageous,” but deep down I know they were totally bummed. One of the husbands actually got it right, and surprised his wife the day before with “February 13th flowers.” She was so excited. Well played, Sir. I bet he got laid that night.
I listened to my brother groan when I asked him what he was doing for his wife. He said, “It’s so stupid. I buy her crap all time. I have to do it today just because someone tells me to?” And then he proceeded to tell me all the amazing things he did for her. Are we really related?
Okay, okay, I’m not a total scrooge. In fact, there’s something I have to admit to you: It happened. Someone cracked my code. I myself couldn’t believe it. Someone was able to take a swing at my Valentine’s Day wall, and actually knock it down with one hit. Whoever would have thought that I, of all people could be charmed by one simple Cupid gesture? It was third grade all over again.
It happened right before the weekend. Still on a bit of a high from my awesome date the night before, I floated out to the mailbox for my Friday gift from the post office gods – my trash magazines. And there it was – right in the mailbox – hypocrite kryptonite. In between my People and Us was one perfect red envelope.
That’s right – the girl who hates all things Valentine’s Day got a valentine. And it wasn’t just any valentine, it was THE valentine. It was perfect.
Ladies and gentleman, I think we may have a winner.
So, what do I do now?
