re: Valentine's Day: great expectations vs crushing disappointment
No one who is truly romantic can set any score by this pointless, over-blown, commercialist, capitalist, opportunistic "holiday" (and I use that term lightly). The scale of the event has been ruthlessly expanded by card shops and florists desperate to ply their trade in between Christmas and Mother's Day. This I can forgive, as small independent shops need all the business they can get. But now the massive supermarket chains have got in on the act, shoving Valentine's Day so far down our throats we're all shitting rose petals, selling cut-price champagne for the same price as up-market cider and £4 bunches of roses. Now, they seem to be saying, there is no excuse for ignoring it, everyone can afford cheap romance, so come buy our crap goods (and hope your girlfriend hasn't seen the ads too).
It has to be the least romantic day of the year. Girls demand their boyfriends/fiances/husbands make an effort, but, whatever they do, the blokes are pretty much screwed. Their options are to:-
1) be unforgivably unimaginative and pay the price, impoverishing themselves for a decent bunch of roses,
2) be hopelessly mushy and re-decorate the bedroom with rose petals and candles and hope she doesn't have a headache (and that the house doesn't burn down), or
3) forget and rush out to buy the last bunch of chrysanthemums in the shop.
The girls, of course, just have to lie back and enjoy it (or find fault, if they prefer).
And what about the rest of the year? If it takes this much commercial advertisement just to make the guy buy some flowers, sod it. Either accept that he's not into that kind of act of affection and get over it, or if you can't live without such romantic overtures, find someone who is more to your taste. I'd rather be surprised at some other time of the year than spend the whole of 14th Feb expecting to be surprised and treated to something nice.
For girls, our Valentine's Day experience falls into one of three categories.
If you've given enough hints over the past two weeks you receive (hideously expensive) red roses and your fella pays through the nose for a oh-so-romantic meal in a fancy restaurant that is a) crammed because everyone else is doing the same thing and b) over-priced because the restauranteurs are (quite rightly) screwing the punters for what they can get.
Alternatively they've forgotten or are right cheap-skates, so you get cheap diesel-scented flowers from a petrol station and a chinese take-away.
Or, worst of all, you're single and spend the whole day wanting to cry and getting your nose rubbed in it by stupid smug coupled-up idiots who think that a pink card with fluffy hearts on it = love 4eva.
And I would fit into category number three. My argument that this rant has not been brought to you by Bitterness(T) might fall on deaf ears. I would like to think that it's true. I just hate the day.
It has to be the least romantic day of the year. Girls demand their boyfriends/fiances/husbands make an effort, but, whatever they do, the blokes are pretty much screwed. Their options are to:-
1) be unforgivably unimaginative and pay the price, impoverishing themselves for a decent bunch of roses,
2) be hopelessly mushy and re-decorate the bedroom with rose petals and candles and hope she doesn't have a headache (and that the house doesn't burn down), or
3) forget and rush out to buy the last bunch of chrysanthemums in the shop.
The girls, of course, just have to lie back and enjoy it (or find fault, if they prefer).
And what about the rest of the year? If it takes this much commercial advertisement just to make the guy buy some flowers, sod it. Either accept that he's not into that kind of act of affection and get over it, or if you can't live without such romantic overtures, find someone who is more to your taste. I'd rather be surprised at some other time of the year than spend the whole of 14th Feb expecting to be surprised and treated to something nice.
For girls, our Valentine's Day experience falls into one of three categories.
If you've given enough hints over the past two weeks you receive (hideously expensive) red roses and your fella pays through the nose for a oh-so-romantic meal in a fancy restaurant that is a) crammed because everyone else is doing the same thing and b) over-priced because the restauranteurs are (quite rightly) screwing the punters for what they can get.
Alternatively they've forgotten or are right cheap-skates, so you get cheap diesel-scented flowers from a petrol station and a chinese take-away.
Or, worst of all, you're single and spend the whole day wanting to cry and getting your nose rubbed in it by stupid smug coupled-up idiots who think that a pink card with fluffy hearts on it = love 4eva.
And I would fit into category number three. My argument that this rant has not been brought to you by Bitterness(T) might fall on deaf ears. I would like to think that it's true. I just hate the day.