OK, color me bitter… But I never really understood Valentine’s Day. On the one hand, I find it ridiculous that it’s some how become a second birthday for women across the country. On the other hand, it’s so silly that some (yes, I’m aware not all) women look at this as a way for her man to demonstrate his love for her.
As men, we typically are offered a raw deal. Not only do we not really get much in the way of gifts, but we are typically faced with a rock/hard place set of options. Some girls say they don’t want anything for Valentine’s Day, but secretly want at least something because… come on… Dana in accounting got a fucking bouquet of roses delivered to her desk! Other girls don’t find it odd to think there should be, at the least, a parade with rose pedals, life-sized teddy bears, breakfast in bed and an expensive (hard-to-get-a-table-at) dinner* all in their name. You lose, either way.
So, here I am, with no one to disappoint (aside from my mom, who has always been my Valentine and reminds me of that every year). I will buy nothing and get nothing. That might read as sad, but I think it’s a great feeling to not have to deal with it.
Frankly, it relegates Valentine’s Day to President’s Day or Arbor Day status. And, going from where it could’ve (and has) been for me on February 14ths of the past, that’s a good feeling.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Picking the wrong option in the rock/hard place paragraph above.