I really thought I was the person who hated Valentines Day the most in the world but apparently I'm not. The author of this poem my friend Dina sent me is:
"Hearts and roses and kisses galore,
What the hell is all that shit for?
People get mushy and start acting queer
It is definitely the most annoying day of the year.
This day needs to get the hell over with and pass,
before I shove something up Cupid's ass.
I'll spend the day so drunk I can't speak
and wear black for the rest of the week.
Guys act all sweet but soon it will fade,
for all they are doing is trying 2 get laid.
The arrow Cupid shot at me must not have hit,
Cause I think this whole love thing's a big crock of shit.
So, here's my story...what else can i say?
Love sucks fat ass...FUCK VALENTINES DAY!!!
Why do I hate Valentines Day you ask? I guess it stems from all my ex-boyfriends, 90% of whom only gave me flowers on Valentines Day. It just seems like such a fucking obligatory event. Everyone is so pressured to be romantic and the expectations the Hallmark world forces on you are rarely fulfilled. If your boyfriend treats you like crap or "blahhh" the other 364 days, who gives a fuck about these goddamn flowers? I've always hated tokenism and this is worse than the one black guy in every movie who always dies first.
I was right in the midst of spouting my anti-Valentines vitriol, when my friend Girlie sent me an e-mail about the bitter people at her office. As a result I feel compelled to emphasize that I do not begrudge other people their happy Valentine moments. I'm just sickened by the idea that (with the exception of Girlie's husband apparently) some people don't do anything "just because" anymore. Then they are guilt-tripped into getting overzealous on a day which is driven primarily by the chocolate, flower and greeting card industries. She had recently broken her wrist and was feeling very frustrated with the limitations it placed on her. To cheer her up, her husband decided to send her 5 dozen roses, one for every year they had been together. It wasn't for Valentines Day, but the holiday did fall in the middle of the week he did it. Her officemates at first made the appropriate cooing noises but by Thursday it had degenerated into this:
Bitter Guy feeling very insecure about his own performance as a boyfriend: "If I want to get my girl flowers, I wouldn't wait for V-day."
Bitter Girl feeling very insecure that the only person who sends her flowers is her father. And he HAS to because she is the (albeit rotten) fruit of his loins: "I mean who sends 4 dozen of roses? Guy must be desperate."
Bitter Guy: "And by now, broke."
Naturally when they saw Girlie had overheard their petty remarks they scurried off into their cubicles without looking at her. Nice. I told Girlie not to trip, since those people were obviously so unhappy with their own lives that they strive to find ugliness where it doesn't exist in order to make themselves feel better about their own respective situations. That is sooooooooo the easy way out. I'm bitter but not to the point where I refuse to believe that there are people out there who are truly in love. And I don't need to talk smack about people who so obviously love each other to feel better about myself. Nothing short of a 3-carat solitaire in a Tiffany setting will do that. Hahaha just kidding, you all know I'm happy if you show up with a bottle of tequila and a pack of cigs.
Anyway, if it makes you feel better Girlie, your story showed me that there are men out there who already treat their wives like every day is Valentines Day. Now that I know this for a fact, I'm going to go look for aliens, Sasquatch and the Lochness Monster. If your husband can exist, so can they.