Why I’m Single Every Feb. 14
Valentine’s Day is the one day of the year when naive girls the world over are swooned by guys whose lone goal is to compensate for being a douche for the other 364 days.
And, no, I’m not bitter.
I’ve walked the plank before, forking over copious amounts of bills in the name of nothing more than lust. The last time I celebrated Cupid’s Holiday, I spent $200 on braised beef, an overpriced bottle of wine, and chocolate-covered strawberries to find out my lady friend had swapped saliva with another guy two weeks later.
The build-up around V-Day has gotten so huge that even the most solid of couples have been ripped apart because the night didn’t feature the obligatory itinerary of dinner, chocolates, and anti-climactic sexual activity.
Everything is forced. So what’s the point?
If it will help you sleep better at night knowing you took the time to tar-and-feather your girl with cheap massage oil and brittle rose petals, by all means, do your thing.
I’ll be watching the game, planning for Mardi Gras and St. Patrick’s Day.