Why I hate Valentine’s Day

This is what romance looks like. Photo by Chelsea Morgan

Valentine’s Day is horrible.

But before you begin speculating about why I am so bitter, just stop.

No one dear to me has ever died on Feb. 14, nor have I experienced a significant amount of misfortune on the date. I’ve never been forced to spend it alone, and I currently have a boyfriend; we are disgusting and love each other and all that stuff.

I suppose, in theory, I ought to have an absolutely splendid opinion of Valentine’s Day, but I just can’t move past how ridiculously impractical this all is.

Let’s start with the all the purchases made for the date.

I’m not going to try and complain about Valentine’s being a “Hallmark” holiday because, frankly, I love spending money. But the money spent on V-Day is just nonsensical.

For instance, 4.5-foot teddy bears. Now, I love teddy bears, but for Valentine’s Day, no one buys a wee little bear for his woman. No, ladies, you’re getting a teddy of epic proportions. Perhaps even the 4.5-foot “Big Hunka Love Bear” that Vermont Teddy Bear company sells at the low, low price of $99.99?

Thank you, baby, but where the hell am I supposed to put this thing? It takes up a third of my bedroom and doesn’t fit on my jail-cell cot of a bed, so into the most inconvenient corner of my living/dining/bathroom it goes.

To answer your questions, yes, I actually have one, and, yes, that’s where I keep it.

Even better, after receiving my 60-pound bear, my darling booface (I told you we were disgusting.) presented me with 18 metric tons of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, which run about $10 a pack. You do the math.

So, now I’m a chocolate millionaire with a teddy that very well may kill me in the event that he falls on top of me. Practical, eh?

Even better, let us consider Valentine’s Day dinner.

Couples essentially find the most expensive restaurant they can think of, wait at this fine establishment for hours in their suits and evening gowns until they hate each other, and then eat in silence.

What a magical night.

For our Valentine’s dinner, we chose The Melting Pot. This is one decision that I will not gripe about, as the service was great, we didn’t have to wait, and we enjoyed massive amounts of various eats dipped in cheese, oil or chocolate. What could go wrong?

Like I said, the service was wonderful and being a server myself, I appreciate that sort of thing.

However, about halfway through dipping everything I could find in chocolate fondue, I looked up to see our server holding the most terrifying teddy bear I’d ever seen. He then proceeded to march the hellacious creature across the table while having it sing a sickening Valentine’s Day song. What the hell just happened?

And if Valentine’s didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have had to witness that.

Again, this holiday is absurd.

After burning the demon bear in my parking lot, my boyfriend and I managed to crawl into my apartment, as we had both ingested our body weights in substances that do not readily metabolize.

At this point, we both passed out on my couch while watching Netflix. Yep, for real. That didn’t end anywhere near as sexy as you though it would, huh?

All things considered, I had a brilliant Valentine’s Day with someone I love, but really, save the bears, chocolates and the $120 dinner that will leave you loathing the world.

Spend it as you would any other day with your loved one. It will be just as wonderful.  I promise.

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