You hate Valentine’s Day don’t you? It’s a stupid Hallmark Holiday invented for the sole purpose of selling cards, bad chocolates, flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals? You’re not going to let some corporation tell you how to profess your love? Ok, that’s your prerogative.
Me, I’m with V-day for the long haul. Why? Because 19 years ago some girl finally agreed to go on a date with me. It just happened that our first date was on Valentine’s Day. Talk about pressure. First, you ask a girl (repeatedly) to go out with you. And just so we are perfectly clear, this is 1992 and the boy in question is a Doc Marten-wearing, flannel-draped, shaved side of the head dork, so the odds are already stacked against him. So when girl finally says yes, it’s for “the most romantic day of the year.” That’s like turning 21 on St. Patrick’s Day or Cinco de Mayo (and yes, I realize that those days aren’t really meant for binge drinking). I’m making a point.
Where were we? Oh yes, girl says yes. Boy plans date. Boy takes girl out for pizza and, of all things, bubble gum ice cream. Boy gives girl a single rose and a card - it is Valentine's Day after all. And some how, against all odds, girl agrees to a second date, and then another, and another. And here we are, celebrating the 19th anniversary of that first date.
Valentine’s Day was good to me that year. It has been ever since. Sure it’s a made up holiday, but why not make the most it. Make a nice dinner, open a bottle of wine, make the most of it.
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