Valentine's Day.
These two words strike fear into the hearts of more men than any other two I can think of. Perhaps with the exception of "testicular tortion" and maybe "scrotal contusion," but I digress.
Me? I have no problems with it myself. That's one of the good things about having a very understanding significant other. One that understands I slave away at a low paying but strangely fulfilling technical job and have to make exorbitant car payments, ridiculous insurance payments, troublesome credit card payments, all while trying to pay my league fees.
For me, Valentine's was a lot like this:
- Movie matinee: $7
- Ice cream: $5
- Being with some one I love: Priceless
Sure it's cliché but it's also true. Besides, I've never measured the amount I care for someone with a dollar sign. And I thank the gods every day that I'm not with someone who does. I've seen strong men's hair turn white and brave men cry fretting over yet another one of these infernal holidays where all we see are ads for
flowers and candy and diamonds and all the other things we men should buy to show the women in our lives that we love them.
And to all of that propaganda I say, "Bullshit!"
I've seen friends drop thousands of dollars on women that wound up only dumping them later and I've seen women cherish one small, sad, cut flower that was given in love. Would I have taken my better half to a fancy restaurant if I could or bought her that ring she's always wanted? If I had the dough, sure. Would it have made a difference in how she felt about me? Probably not. Love is love and isn't measured by anything you could put a price tag to.
Me? I had a wonderful Valentine's Day for just a little more than the cost of a six pack of nine-volt batteries.
I couldn't have written it better.
©2000 shut up & dance.com
