I don't know why I have a this aversion to Valentine's Day, but I've never been one to get excited about it. I can remember when I was in elementary school giving out those little tear-away cards decorated with the cartoon du jour. I think my problem is that even at a young age I was a hopeless romantic. I always fantasized that the boy I had a huge crush on was going to bring me flowers, or even just an extra special Valentine. But alas, the real men in the world can never measure up to the fantasy men in my head. So over the years I learned to just set the bar low (ground level), so I'd never be disappointed.
I know when most women say they don't want anything for Valentine's Day they're lying. Sorry ladies, but you know it's true. But, honestly and for truly, when I'm dating someone I really don't care about celebrating Valentine's Day. I have a man -I've won the battle, ya know? That's all I need. But, when I'm single like I am this Valentine's Day, I just loathe Valentine's Day with all my being. I hate it for the simple fact that I'm alone.
I had already resigned myself to being alone for Valentine's Day. It was no big deal. I've been alone before. Then in steps my best friend Katie. She's been dating this guy for going on 3 years now, and I guess they had discussed previously how sad it was that I was going to be alone, so they decided to include me in on their plans. Bless their hearts. I appreciate it, I really do, but being the third wheel on somebody's date is bad enough, but being their third wheel on their Valentine's Day date??
The day started off at a local spa where Katie's boyfriend had arranged for she and I to get Swedish massages. I love Katie to death, she's my oldest and dearest friend, but for all her positive qualities, she lacks a little tack when it comes to events like these. I'm the first of us to get to the spa, and it's just lovely. It's located in a beautifully old, restored house downtown, and it had all the ambiance you'd expect: soft violin music, running water in the background, hot tea, snacks, you get the picture. I sit on the overstuffed couch when my phone rings. It's Katie. She is late because she is gas station hopping trying to find a razor. Apparently she didn't think about getting a full body massage when she was getting ready, and forgot to shave her legs. So, she arrives 10 minutes late with razor in hand. The ambiance is shattered when she booms out, "Hey, Sarah!" The poor old lady behind the counter looked mortified. It only got better from there. They presented us both with a face sheet about ourselves, preferences, and health profile. Katie read down the column and verbally stated that she was the victim of gout, AIDS, and incontinence. After she completed her survey she retired to the bathroom to shave her legs.
Meanwhile my masseuse enters stage right. It's a guy. I've never had a male masseuse before, and I think I'm comfortable with it, but I was distracted the whole time. Lord forgive me, but all during the massage I was worried about exactly what (if you get my drift) was close to my head, how close his hands were getting to, ah, certain places... But he gave a wonderful massage. I almost thoroughly enjoyed it.
Next came the movies. Katie's boyfriend paid for our tickets, and of course we just had to watch "Valentine's Day." The movie was actually good, but it was as if someone opened the "Singleness" wound and first poured peroxide in it followed by a good salt rubbed down. I would have preferred to see "Wolfman" just so maybe I could lie to myself during the movie that it was just any ole day. But no, the universe wanted to remind me that I'm alone and surrounded by seemingly happy couples. Rub the salt in a little deeper, universe. I was ever so thankful for the bit of comedic relief provided by Katie. She won the coveted Best Line of the Night award when while standing in line to get into the movie she asked, "So, what's this about?"
A big thank you to Katie and Eddie. I appreciate everything you did, and I'm only griping about the events because of the day they fell on. Thank you for going out of your way to make sure I wasn't alone on Valentine's Day. I'm know that I'm sounding like a bitter, ungrateful butthole, but it's 5:00 p.m. on Valentine's Day, and, please don't be offended when I say this, but the most productive/least painful thing I did was snake my bathtub drain. I'm entitled.
Signed,
The Valentine Scrooge (BAH HUMBUG!)
Listen to some of my anti-Valentine's Day songs on Blip.fm @ http://blip.fm/SnuffyMcSheisterton
