This past Sunday was Valentine’s Day. America’s couples spent millions of dollars on flowers and chocolate, not to mention diamonds and other forms of expensive trinkets, in order to appease the rapacious appetites of their significant others. Otherwise reasonable people (usually — but perhaps not always — women) go crazy on V-Day with their demands. And to some degree I understand it. It’s good that we have at least one day in the year where we’re forced to commemorate our relationships. If you think about the sheer numbers of sexless and loveless unions, it’s good that we have socially sanctioned day to rekindle the spark.
I’m not going to go into a tirade against mass consumerism or anything tacky like that. To each their own. But there are benefits to enjoying a simple Valentine’s Day.
However, simple doesn’t mean that you should skimp on the sexual freakiness. Astroglide, please. Cuffs? Check. Toys … hello? Personally, I’m not into the lingerie thing (because why are you paying so much money for something you’re going to take off anyway, you know what I mean?) but I see these sexy ladies play it up, giving me an almost convincing argument-in-the-flesh for why I should consider buying it. Or at least, be able to empathize with fourteen year olds who jack off to their sisters’ Vickie catalogues.
I had a terrific Valentine’s Day. We saw a Hindi movie, which was very, very sexy because I don’t understand the language and the boyfriend had to translate the lines one after the other. And most of the lines had links to depraved sex acts, which made me very happy. And the theatre was empty, too, so we got a great deal of near-fucking in. And there wasn’t anybody else there with us, so we could be as loud and annoying as we liked. Another plus for us: it was a good movie. I mean, even if it was a shitty movie we still would’ve had fun together, but the film was very good. And I understood everything even though the movie had no subtitles, which was a big reason why nobody else was in the theatre (we think).
Lunch was at Pizza Hut. I love their chalky, gritty cheese. I don’t know why — it’s an unrefined taste that I’ve preserved since childhood — but we ate a very filling meal there and surprised ourselves by finishing a whole pie. The entire day cost us $25, movie tickets included. I understand that it costs a fortune to see movies now, but this theatre was in a goddamn dungeon of a garage.
After that we went home and had freaky wild monkey sex. (I mean, who doesn’t have sex on Valentine’s Day?) We finished up the evening with a showing of Miss Austen Regrets, which had the saddest ending in the world. All of that post-orgasm high crashed into a feeling of rich sadness.
It was a modest evening in terms of activity. But it was a very fulfilling one in the sense that I spent it talking to my partner. The recession isn’t a fun time for anyone, and because people are not able to be as productive as they can be, there’s lots of cause for resentment. It is, however, time you get to spend with a loved one. This Valentine’s Day reminded me of that. Sure, it’s annoying that we need external reminders, but I’ll take what I’m offered and I’m glad I ran away with it.