I know, I know… I’m two days late. However, it IS Valentine’s weekend, so I figured better late than never, right? Unless of course after reading this post your recommendation would have been, ‘never’.
That said, singles beware… the one day of the year that all of us non-coupled cro-magnons dread like the second coming of Cher’s coming out of retirement tour is upon us once more. You know the holiday, the name of which that starts with a ‘V,’ but we must not speak, text, twit or even think about, for fear it might summon a Gozer-sized cupid destructor.
The word, that if repeated three times in front of a mirror while clipping your toenails during tax season, will unleash the wrath of Satan’s lawyers and renew the Kardashians for yet another season. Those that said Valentine’s Day, stop saying it already!
For those that thought I might have been referring to the snake like villain in a relatively popular young adult book series, you would have been wrong, but that doesn’t mean both ‘V’ words don’t strike fear into roughly 164% of earth’s male population.
So why is the Outlaw single you ask? It’s possible that my life-size talking replica of Dobby the house elf is considered by some to be a possible explanation for my availability on the market for another 14th day of February. Ladies, of course I’m joking about the elf doll. Regrettably, I was outbid on that auction in the waning seconds.
To be fair, I’d argue the lack of anyone reaching my lofty standards as the roadblock to exiting single-hood once and for all. Although, one might argue that proudly displaying my Dinobot collection in lieu of my family photos may also be playing a small role.
Despite the endless entertainment that is my bachelor existence, the real issue here is the fear and downright hate many singles seem to have for a day where See’s Candy stock holders rejoice by swimming in a pile of heart shaped coins.
Of the small sample of those polled at About.com, almost half claimed not to be a fan of the holiday that stresses the importance of making googly eyes at the opposite sex because the calendar instructs us to.
Personally, my thoughts are how can anyone hate a holiday that’s mascot extols the positive virtues of arming a newborn with a crossbow and arrows in the name of love. Still, for those singles currently not so in love with love, I will respectfully refer to it as V-day. (Not to be confused with “V” Day, where super-intelligent oversized lizards take over our planet and procreate with us in order to create a hybrid race of creatures that enable every human to have their own personal Starbucks barista.)
Nevertheless, before we delve deeper into this seemingly universal disdain of the big red holiday by most unattached folk the world over, it’s important to take a brief look at the history of how men got suckered into buying ‘real’ jewelry on a fixed yearly schedule.
Valentine, which is the Roman term for “Roses at 500% markup,” was believed to have started with the murder of three Christian saints around 500 A.D. that went by the names Larry, Curly, and Moe. These saints, that had no relation to each other (other than they lived in the same apartment complex), were said to have been martyred; meaning they didn’t really have a say in being killed, but if they went along with it they’d be remembered annually in greeting cards sold at many participating discount drug stores.
While unconfirmed, legend has it the saints were murdered on February 14th by a group of Roman women whom were sick of their men not mowing the lawn after being told countless times; despite still finding time to make it to the coliseum to watch the pregame death-match warm-ups. The lifeless bodies were all discovered wearing red blood soaked togas made by the famous designer of that time known as Valentine.
From that moment forward, it was decided that one day a year (well, one more day a year) women will be respected, loved and feared a little more than usual. Consequently, the color red is purposely associated with the holiday to serve as a reminder to men that it could be their own whitey tighties that suffer the same fate as their blood drenched toga toting ancestors should they fail to book their Cheesecake Factory reservations 39 weeks in advance of the now monumental day.
If that tale seems far-fetched, just try comprehending the Wiki-fied version of history and you will soon agree my translation at least explains why in the world we even celebrate a holiday no one gets paid time off for outside of government employees (whom currently work a total of 23 days a year… not counting holidays).
The point being, many of the single naysayers might have a valid case for not being smitten with a holiday that tries to sell smitten at a price that will be on store shelves at a 90% discount the following morning.
Truth is, V-day isn’t about taking out the girl that won’t boink you at the end of the evening anyway, nor seeing the guy you just met last night that you confided to your friends as being ‘the one’… ‘the one’ that dumps you on February 15th for the girl that decided to boink him without the need for showing up curbside in a Tournament of Roses float.
Like it or not, V-day actually is about love. Love for your family, friends, pets and even that crazy next door neighbor that thinks his car alarm going off is Katy Perry’s latest hit that the entire block needs to hear non-stop through Labor Day.
Much like the overall theme of Harry Potter, love is anything that makes us happy and the people we hold near and dear to our hearts, be it our parents, siblings, best friends or that Mark Hamill-signed limited edition Yoda snuggie. In the end, love triumphs over Voldemort (don’t pretend like I ruined it for you) and love also triumphs over Valentine’s Day.
Heck, rename V-Day to Me-Day and if anything just love yourself. (That sonic boom you hear on the 14th will be every male on the planet not in a relationship simultaneously clicking through to their favorite adult video site a few MPH above the speed of sound.) Mind you, that’s not exactly what I was suggesting by ‘loving thyself,’ but it never hurts to have options.
Honestly, should you find yourself one of the many single souls on any forth coming V-day (that still shall not be spoken of despite writing it twice now), stay home, relax, order a pizza, crack a beer, and throw on your favorite flick. In fact, take the opportunity to shoot out some messages to other Anti V-Day daters. You might just find that one special someone that you will love enough to start making year-in-advance Cheesecake Factory reservations of your own.