The Perfect Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day (f/k/a St. Valentine’s Day) arrives to bestow upon us its annual bounty of heart-shaped confections and edible unmentionables.

Most of us are simultaneously delighted by this wonderful holiday and perplexed by how best to spend it.  Anyone with a Facebook or Twitter account has no doubt been inundated by complaints, apprehension, and questions revolving around the ideal method of celebrating Valentine’s Day.  In fact, what was once a simple day of passing pink and red cards at worst, or a straightforward jewelry-for-sex exchange at best, has transformed into an increasingly pressure-packed, stressful event.

I’m not going to list a series of detailed Valentine’s Day ideas or suggestions.  There are hundreds of other articles that fit that structure, and, besides, what works for me may not be what works for you.  All I can do is present my own Valentine’s Day agenda, which hopefully might provide vague insight—if not specific instruction—into how you can make your holiday a successful one!

The lynchpin of any Valentine’s Day celebration is a romantic dinner.  Certainly, no one should be expected to cook on this particular occasion.  That’s why I’ll be contacting my local Papa John’s (a nearby pizzeria) to handle those arrangements.

I can't think of a food more suited for my romantic candlelit dinner alone. And, if you say *you* can, you're a damn liar.

You see, PJ’s has a heart-shaped pizza for a mere $15.  That would be a bargain at twice the price, but it’s all the better because I’ll be getting my Valentine’s pizza for free, thanks to the massive amount of “Papa Points” I’ve accumulated through weekly pizza purchases throughout football season.  In fact, I believe I’ve stockpiled enough points to buy two of these treats, which means I’ll be able to have a special dinner on both Tuesday and Wednesday nights[1]!

Ah, but what to watch while I enjoy my delicious supper?  I’m thinking I might throw a Wrestlemania disc or two in the ol’ blu-ray player (not at once, silly!).  Or, perhaps I’ll dust off a recording of a thirty-year-old pro football game.  Either way, I’m confident I’ll be able to evoke fond memories of some tasty pizzas I’ve eaten in the past.  Isn’t nostalgia fun?!?

But I can’t just sit around all night.  I should go out—After all, it’s Valentine’s Day!

So, it’s off to the gym to burn off some of that pizza!  No need to change clothes, since I’ll invariably be in a sweatsuit of some kind, albeit a freshly grease-stained one.  I’ll put in ear buds just prior to entering the facility in order to minimize the chances that a stranger will torture me with inane small talk.

I like to make sure that the wire at the other end of the aforesaid buds is merely dangling in front of me, attached to nothing, so as to send the unmistakable message, “Not only do I not want to talk to you, but I have such little regard for your intelligence and/or basic humanity that I won’t bother making a convincing case of my inability to communicate.”

I’ll note any attractive women who might be working out while being mindful not to make eye contact or stare for more than a “one Mississippi.”  I’ll then harshly judge anyone I see who is wearing unacceptable gym attire (e.g. khakis—I mean, really?  Khakis?!?) or behaving in a non-standard way, like the couple I saw last week who brought their own laptop and speakers to the gym because they didn’t like the musical selection.  I probably should have knocked them both unconscious with a well-placed ten-pound dumbbell, but, you know, live and learn.

I’ll do my usual work on the indoor track, getting annoyed when the douchebag who likes to shadowbox around the edge wanders out into my path every f***ing time I make it around to his corner of the track.  I think his barbed-wire tattoo must somehow be cutting off the flow of blood to his undersized brain.  I’ll plan on doing two miles, but talk myself into one mile being enough.  It’s a holiday, after all!

Then, what Valentine’s Day would be complete without hitting the bars—the freeweight bars, that is!  I’m always up for tackling the bench press.  I’ll just lift whatever happens to be on the bar already, since I’m too lazy at this point in my life to switch weights between sets.  Sometimes, all the bench bars will be totally clean, so I’ll just do sets of 30 or 40 reps with the bar only, rather than go to the trouble of adding any weight[2].

More likely, there will be a 45 on each side, and I’ll quietly congratulate myself on still being able to rip off sets of 135 with ease well over a decade after my football career ended.  I will do so while ignoring the fact that I’m a solid forty pounds overweight.

The naming gets awkward when they bake these for Kwanzaa

But the Valentine’s fun doesn’t end there!  On the way home, I’ll stop off at Martin’s for a celebratory confection!  Much like a prudent Christmas shopper who waits until the night of December 24th to venture to the mall for the very first time, I’ll benefit from the tremendous advantage of shopping for Valentine’s-related treats upon the evening of February 14th.  That wisdom will ensure I’ll be able to get, say, one of those fancy “cakes-that’s-really-a-bunch-of-cupcakes” for half price.  It’s the rat king of cakes!  You can’t do better than that!

But, surely, traveling the four miles between my house and the gym can’t be the extent of my Valentine’s Day journey, can it?  Nope!  What a dumb question, you stupid shit!

After eating half of the cupcake cluster during the teary car ride home, I’ll stop weeping long enough to swap out the Wrestlemania disc for that of Skyrim, transporting me to an amazing, magical land filled with this and this and, thankfully, also this.

That’s right, the only crabs I’ll be getting Valentine’s night will be these guys (when I kill them with my sword—not a euphemism)!

After that, next stop is Evanston, Illinois, where I’ll continue on in the twenty-seventh year of my NCAA 12 dynasty at Northwestern University!  I really think this is the year my mighty Wildcats will finally top Michigan!  Fingers crossed!

With excitement like that, who needs a girlfriend?  Not this guy!  Yuck!

I’ll cap a flawless night by convincing myself to eat only a slice or two of the second pizza, saving the rest for lunch on Wednesday, or possibly dinner, dependent upon (1) what’s on television that night and (2) how much credit I have left on my Chik-fil-A gift card.

I’ll settle in for the evening, sending a few texts to girls I haven’t talked to in a while, “Just to check in,” then pretend like I had forgotten what day it was when they reply to say they’re out celebrating Valentine’s Day with their boyfriends.

I’m kidding.  They won’t reply!  They never do—Wink!

Lastly, I’ll drift off to peaceful slumber after continuing to delve into an articulate, yet insomnia-fighting monograph on the subject of noose-tying.  Truly fascinating stuff, and an ideal way to cap a perfect rendition of my very favorite holiday!

Have a Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody!


[1] Just kidding!  I’m sure I’ll eat both pizzas.
[2] I actually have done that one.
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3 Responses to The Perfect Valentine’s Day

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