The Word Of The Day Is… Sucker
OK… I’m taking a deep breath because what I have to say may hurt you and I have no interest in ever doing that – but I’m going to say it anyway:
You disappoint me.
Have I taught you nothing? Have you taught you nothing? We spent the better part of two days last week talking about Valentine’s Day, and what a giant bag of crap the whole thing was, remember? You were going to spend Valentine’s Day by yourself, running at the beach, swimming an offshore mile and capping it off with a deep tissue massage. You had a feel good plan laid out and the strength to carry it through, and you did a 180 based on an envelope and a stamp. What happened?
Maybe I’m being harsh… Maybe I’m being colored by my own Valentine’s weekend experience, and it had nothing to do with a woman. Half of my weekend was meeting for beers with two male friends of mine so they could depress the shit out of me. Their love lives are so bleak; they make a bad marriage look good. One’s unhappily married, the other unhappily single and their sex lives are equal: non-existent. They spent the whole night whining about Valentine’s Day; my married friend about how much money he was going to spend, and my single friend about how hard he was going to try to not feel like a complete loser. I was ready to blow my brains out by the second beer and was home for my third, ten minutes later.
I think I know exactly what happened with you. You did what ALL girls and women do… You started dreaming. You started hoping. You started gazing in wonder at the power of love and why can’t the right man with the right valentine be the man of your dreams. Your soft effort to dismiss Valentine’s Day was quickly overwhelmed by the power of the day itself. It’s bigger than you. It’s almost bigger than me. Take away the TV commercials, tear down the billboards and close the malls. Strip away everything we ever learned about Valentine’s Day and we’re left with one piece of this day that no sane person would argue with. It’s all about love.
Fortunately for you, you are not me, nor are you dating me. I personally think it takes a colossal amount of stones for a grown man (he’s grown, right?) to drop an old-fashioned valentine in an old-fashioned mailbox. No e-mail, no overkill… no promises. So I have to tip my hat to this guy. If there’s a right way to do something this lame, this cat did it the absolute right way.
Happy Valentine’s Day – it’s all yours. Now about the guy…
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So, Maybe Cupid Doesn’t Suck
I 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?
