By Posie Pocket
It’s almost time for the receiving of sugary hearts and unwanted, oversized teddy bears. Ah yes, the day that is the source of relationship strains, over thinking and disappointment. Now, I may sound like a single, love-hating pessimist, but I only speak the truth. If you’ve read any of my Pocketful of Peens articles, you know I love love. I am love’s number one advocate, wishing it to be spread near and far. But Valentine’s Day makes us wacky some times. Even when I am attached to a mate, I secretly dread Valentine’s Day. I’m not going to blame it on the rom-coms I’ve been drenched in my whole life. I’m not going to blame it on piss-poor experiences with ill-fated lovers. There’s honestly just too much pressure and hype surrounding this day. Don’t get me started on the excessively expensive dinner plates and scrounging for reservations. My ideal Valentine’s Day would be pizza, candy and an early night in for a roll in the hay. I’m guessing all fellas would raise his glass to that. Especially to a kinky V-day tryst.
My favorite Valentine’s Day was my most recent one. I was single on February 14 for the first time in six years. Not blowing my budget on the perfect Valentine’s Day gift, ensemble and lingerie, I was excited to meet up with my girlfriends for dinner and a fun movie. So, if you’re single, don’t throw some pathetic Singles Awareness Day party. I freakin’ hate that shit. Valentine’s Day is not an obligatory festivity that must be recognized each year in a grandiose way. If you are feeling festive, do it elementary style and send Valentine’s to all your dear friends. Having a little treat in the mail will brighten anyone’s day. Better yet, go out to dinner with your friends and enjoy one another’s company.
I remember one Valentine’s back in my collegiate years, I was dating the most stand-up guy. It was our first Valentine’s together and he truly did make an effort. He booked a reservation at one of the fanciest Italian joints in our college town. We showed up and the bastards were to capacity. We were turned away and I was “bitch gotta eat” hungry. I knew I should have packed my chocolate chip reduced fat granola bars. As we drove around, searching for a place to dine, he suggested Buffalo Wild Wings. I was a high maintenance, hungry bitch and I wanted to eat some where with a table cloth! Not some shit shack where you lick your fingers or wipe ‘em on your game day jersey. I was fuming and made it known Buffalo Wild Wings was not a viable option. Not if he wanted to get lucky that night. Back then it was a Virgin Valentine’s Day so when I say lucky I probably meant a boob touch or dry humping. To make matters worse, the poor lad didn’t know the appropriate flower choice. He walked into my dorm room and my roommate could tell by my face I was pissed. The flowers looked like a Thanksgiving centerpiece. A pretty dreadful night, blown out of proportion. But in my defense, I had this sparkling hullabaloo of love in my head so of course anything he did was going to fall short. Now, years later, I would love a night of guilt-free dining at Buffalo Wild Wings, followed by some love-making (with the lights off of course after a feast at BWW- yikes).
So, after accumulating Valentine dates over the years, my advice to the newcomers is to not have high expectations. It’s just another night. This year, it’s just another week night. I’m most excited for February 15, when all the candy is half off. You can bet I’ll be at the grocery store before work stocking up on my love notes splashed on candy hearts. Not to get all sentimental, but if anything, Valentine’s is a good reminder to extend love to our family and friends. I already have my hand-made Valentine’s assembled and written out. I can’t wait to pop them in the mail and send those glittery notes all over the country.
Who knows, with low expectations, Cupid may even snag us with one of his love-drunk arrows.