The best Valentine’s Day I ever had was when I was about seven – I got two Valentine’s cards from the same boy, complete with “love from” and little kisses.
One was pink with flowers. The other was a bit more risqué – a half naked Tarzan and Jane entwined in an embrace flying through the jungle on a vine. As a seven-year old, this didn’t mean much – it just looked like a pretty cartoon. But I think my mother was slightly horrified at the somewhat erotic nature of the card (as I found out years later). However, I do believe that at the tender age of seven I didn’t know what the word erotic meant.
Fast forward more than 20 years to 2009. I didn’t get one Valentine’s Day card – let alone two. (Well, ok, technically that’s a lie - my female flatmate took pity on me and gave me chocolates and a card. But that doesn’t count!)
So, with no flowers or secret admirers in sight, it was time to take the “day of love” into my own hands – the anti-Valentine’s Day.
Basically what this consisted of was eating pizza and ogling buff men in short shorts and tight tops – aka England versus Wales Six-Nations rugby – where the better looking team won.
My female friend and I then joined her friend in town (you’re safer if you’re in threes on V-day; there’s no room for misinterpreting the situation). Sticking with the anti-romance theme, we went for the cheapest wine – out of a tap!
I took some time to peruse the pub and spot the singles and was pleasantly surprised to see a lot (clearly everyone else had had the same idea as us). Though there was one gentleman who had a rather unsightly butt crack on show – which either explains why he was probably single or it was his way of attracting female attention (you know, sort of like a peacock). Whatever it was, it was not good.
After our drinks we proceeded to the cinema to see award winning Slumdog Millionaire. Clearly, I hadn’t read the reviews. There I was thinking the movie was about some guy who went on Who Wants to be a Millionaire and wins. No. It turned out to be a romance (sorry if I’ve ruined that for anybody). Thankfully not too soppy.
At first, I was also thankful we were sitting in the front row away from all the back-row shenanigans. But boy was I wrong. As we were leaving there was a couple in the front row, just down from us, playing tonsil hockey.
Ah the joys of Valentine’s Day – the only day when saying “get a room” is redundant.