A Valentine's Day Message For Everyone

I’m sitting in a Starbucks, writing on my computer, looking like another wanna-be writer who thinks a 3.25 Mocha and a faux oak table are their key to being the next John Steinbeck, where under cheap track lighting they say via their open computer, pensive look-offs into the distance between frantic typing, and their intent, brow-bending stare at their computers, “Look at me! I’m a real writer!” But, alas, I am not doing such today. I come to you today in as a cheery mood as the next man with his testicles strapped to a car battery.

Alright, so that isn’t true. I don’t let Valentine’s Day affect me like most people. While others throw around their philosophical droplets of wisdom (“It’s just a holiday invented by Hallmark to make money. It’s intended to make single people miserable.”), I do not fall into those ranks. Sure, watching couples fawn over each other in public like mother gorillas picking bugs out of their children’s fur stands about two rungs above a nasty gangrene infection on the Vomit Scale. But, I realize two things. One, most of these couples act like this towards each other about three times a year and most are internally just as miserable as any single person feels. I walked around downtown for an hour today and saw exactly five shouting matches, one of which the police were watching because they and I were quite certain that was going to end in fist-a-cuffs.

Second, and most importantly, it’s just another day. Sure, it dredges up memories and feelings, but so do sad movies, floppy eared puppies, and venereal disease flare-ups long after the gift giver has gone. You can easily let one day affect your outlook on life, but that feeling is fleeting, as are most feelings, and tomorrow the red balloons and cheesy slogans in restaurant windows will be gone and half of those couples will be well on their way to a nasty break-up three months from now. It’s the nature of the beast.

So why write about this? Well, I’m bored. I’ve never wished so intently for two days with absolutely nothing to do and no responsibilities to pass by so quickly. Also, it’s an inside joke to myself that I’ll share with you, but I like to secretly laugh at people without anyone else knowing why I’m laughing or smiling like an idiot, and there’s one of those guys, absorbedly pounding away on his computer, sitting behind me, and the stack of books he has piled up next to him and his yellow legal pad notes includes two of the Harry Potter books. So I figured that I would do the same as him, even though only I know I’m writing ridiculous statements about a made-up holiday and he’s probably actually trying.

I spent today getting a hair cut from a nice gentleman who said, “Your hair naturally flows towards the center of your head and gives you a fantastic faux hawk. You have a great head shape.” So to all you hatas out there, I told you I be reppin’ the most bad ass faux hawk eva’. And now a real hairstylist at a SuperCuts told me so.