Funny Little Valentine

Dear Mum,

It is upon us. The worst day of the year.

Valentine’s Day. Or, to the vast majority, Have-a-Whine Day. Or better still, Have-a-Glass-of-Wine Day, to make it easier to bear.

I don’t have a problem with romance. Several newspapers published some delightful articles on love poems and love letters this week.

And I have no problem with couple’s being romantic, provided they don’t do it when I’m standing behind them in a queue and am being subjected to the sound of their lip-locking.

But Valentine’s Day divides society into those that embrace it with fully flung arms and those that spurn it, instead taking part in Have-a-Whine Day. I’m in the latter category.

This is for the following reasons:

1)      As every magazine and columnist point out, commercialism is rammed in our faces in the form of nauseously cutsie cards, tacky teddies and meal deals. If you are single, strapped for cash or have a degree of taste this is overwhelming and demoralising.

2)     As a result of the above, I have no idea why we celebrate it. It must have religious roots but, a bit like Halloween, this has been lost with time along with Capitalism’s expansion. You brought me up on the philosophy that if you don’t know where it’s come from, don’t touch it. I treat Valentine’s Day with your advice.

3)     There is no pucker tradition that goes hand in hand with the day. No traditional songs, no particular meal, no timeframe of events. Just that dratted poem ‘Roses are red, Violets are blue.’

4)     Hearts are everywhere. In shop windows, on posters, menus, carrier bags, attraction leaflets, Google’s homepage, not to mention heart shaped foodstuffs. This is a symbol one ordinarily rebuffs. Take any person who dots their i’s with hearts. Ordinarily, these people are mocked by society but Valentine’s Day comes round and people adapt their own handwriting in greeting cards to incorporate the loathed emblem.

5)     If you’re single you are reminded of this fact. Constantly. This consequently makes you nostalgic and you think back to past Valentine’s Days with old boyfriends. For example, this time two years ago, I was in Florence. Today, I’m at sitting on an office chair that gradually lowers itself in the space of ten minutes until my chin is practically on the desk, and with a gurgling radiator that makes my bladder feel like it should also be constantly sloshing its contents. How glamorous.

6)     If you are in couple there is a pressure to mark the occasion. People ask you “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” and you feel that you should come up with something intensely spectacular, particularly if the person asking is in a relationship themselves. “Well, we’re going to have a romantic evening picnic on the beach, snuggled up under the stars with glasses of pink champagne and a single violinist serenading us, puppies pawing at our feet before riding home on a unicorn.”

7)     Related to the above, it is a popularity contest. At school, rumours flew about who got the most Valentines. Now it’s who travelled the furthest for their Valentine’s Day.

8)    There is nothing personal about it. A couple’s anniversary is their day and, as a result, there is no-one else to compete with, no-one else to steal one’s thunder and no-one parading meaningless tat in shop windows for you to buy your loved one. An anniversary means something. Valentine’s Day means squat.

9)     As of 1^5th February, you completely forget about the day. You only remember it a year later when you think “This time a year ago...” Once more, Valentine’s Day means squat.

10) It is said like a sigh. Try it. “Valentine’s Day.”  Your volume and tone of voice declines, as if you’ve totally given up hope and succumbed to the sickly sweet pressure of Valentine’s Day. In truth, it is because every normal human being who isn’t a loved up teenager dreads its approach and knows it will be an utter disappointment. Have-a-Whine day becomes Have-a-Sigh day.

I’m off to open that bottle of wine...