The Anti-Valentine’s Day & Share Your Worst V-day Story2comments
I’ve always considered myself a bit of a romantic, but when it comes to Valentine’s Day, I have mixed feelings at best. On the one hand, I’m absolutely pro love, and don’t even mind having a day dedicated to romance, even if it is cheesy and Hallmark-y. On the other hand, the slew of diamond commercials that pop up each February are so irritating they actually make me long for the barrage of campaign commercials during election season. And really, as far as I’m concerned, it’s not real a holiday if you don’t get it off of work. In that regard, Memorial Day kick’s Valentine’s Day’s ass.
We might go to bed on the night of February 13th with visions of roses dancing through our heads, but most of us wake up the next morning just hoping to get through the day without feeling too crappy. Valentine’s Day can be miserable for the single, but being in a relationship isn’t necessarily a get-out-of-Valentine’s-free-of-pain card. At the risk of sounding like the Valentine’s Grinch, I’ve had as many bad Valentine’s as good (as I’ve documented), and I’m guessing I’m not alone is this.
If you’re not looking forward to Friday, we wanted to make sure you know you’re not alone. So without further ado… here are my two worst Valentine’s days.
First runner-up for Claudia’s Worst Valentine: I was excited to finally have a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day, but ‘Mark’ and I had been on again and off again for a while, so my expectations were pretty low. We were coming on the heels of an off period, and were taking it slow (taking it slowly was his idea, not mine). As we were sleeping together, I’m not sure what ‘slowly’ meant exactly except that I didn’t know where the hell we stood but felt like we were more than ‘hanging out’ but less than a couple. Enter the holiday of compulsory romance.
I was waitressing at a restaurant, and Valentine’s being one of our busiest nights, I chose making money over the very real possibility that Mark would do nothing to celebrate Valentine’s Day other than hurt my feelings. (He had made it abundantly clear that Valentine’s Day was a sham holiday which his dark, brooding, always-going-against-the-tide attitude would never support or indulge in). While I worked, Mark went to a movie with a friend and popped into the restaurant later in the night. Here’s how low my expectations were… I actually thought it was incredibly sweet that he would visit me. He was holding a Barnes & Noble bag and off the cuff he said “I got you something for Valentine’s.” My face lit up. I was so excited. I reached for the bag and pulled out… an unauthorized biography of Marilyn Manson (from the bargain bin no less). I was totally confused. Mark awkwardly said, “Oh, I was just kidding. I bought this for myself.” Even his friend looked at me with pity. Mark stumbled around trying to make it less awkward, with no luck, and left the restaurant a few minutes later. Even though I’d thought I’d lowered my expectations to about as low as they could get, I was still crushed. I felt horrible, not just about the state of our relationship but also about myself. And most embarrassing of all? We were a couple, off and on, for another year after that.
First Place for My Worst Valentine’s Day: I was single and not happy about it. Having no Valentine’s Day plans with my friends (big mistake) I thought I’d rent a movie, pick up some food and have a nice quiet night to myself. Perfect. I drove to the video store (this was pre Netflix), and I must have lost my mind somewhere between my apartment and Blockbusters because when I got there I picked Never Been Kissed and The Way We Were. I was aware that it was a little pathetic to rent two very romantic movies to watch on Valentine’s Day by myself, but I figured no one was going to know about my patheticness except me and the video store guy. How foolish I was.
Two blocks from my apartment, a guy ran a red light and smashed into my car. I was okay (a little stiff), but the driver’s side door was smashed in and wouldn’t open. Good samaritans pushed the car out of the intersection. I climbed across the passenger seat and at the last minute remembered to grab my dinner and two dvds. (A car accident was going to be costly enough, I didn’t want late rental fees on top of it). But as I stood there clutching my copies of Never Been Kissed and The Way We Were, I became convinced that everyone, including the cops writing up the accident report, were looking at me with pity that had nothing to do with my car getting smashed. Complete stranger pity may be the very worst kind. I walked back to my empty apartment, slammed the two stupid movies on the kitchen counter and burst into tears. Then proceeded to watch both movies while stuffing my face. Sexy.
Do you have some stories of Valentine’s Days horrors? (I’d like you to top a collision AND Barbra Streisand in the same night) If you do, please, please share.