I’ve never liked Valentine’s Day. Before you start thinking it’s because I didn’t have a man, let me set you straight. Since I was 12, I think I’ve always had a Valentine (not bragging, but letting you know where I am coming from). I have legitimate reasons for thinking that the holiday sucks.
First, Valentine’s Day is just some fake, made-up day, pushed by Hallmark and other companies and designed to make businesses a lot of money.
Second, Valentine’s Day causes men to panic and make dumb buying decisions. What woman over 18 really wants a damn teddy bear? All of a sudden your cheap ass husband, who only gets his oil changed when the auto shop is running a special, pays $125 for a dozen roses that typically cost $40. And, yes, I like the smell of that perfume, but you actually let the salesperson convince you to get the deodorant, body gel, and shampoo set?!
Third, Valentine’s Day brings out the dining-amateurs. I know that I sound like a snob, but Valentine’s Day makes it tough to even get even the most basic meal out. You try to go to your local Mexican joint or bar & grill and there THEY are—all dressed up in their red outfit from Macy’s taking up your favorite table. Every place has a 2-hour wait and reservations were taken up 2 weeks ago. Additionally, the servers and the kitchen staff are over-worked, so even when you do get a table, you are sure to get the shittiest service ever.
Lastly and most importantly, Valentine’s Day makes 3/4s of the population feel like shit. Let’s just face it: ½ of people don’t have a true Valentine and the ¼ who have one will be disappointed with either her mate’s lack of effort in making them feel special or with his poor effort (see paragraph 2). The ¼ of us, who have a significant other, who actually did “right” will take pictures of our roses and candy specifically to flaunt them on FB and Instagram, so that the world knows that we are one of the lucky ones, causing so many to feel even worse than they already did.
So, call me crotchety, but cupid can shoot that arrow right in his own ass; then fly away with all of his cheap candy, over-priced flowers and teddy bears.
*those of you who are offended by this post, you can’t say that I didn’t warn you.
My intention is for Black people to love themselves and each other. It sounds somewhat silly, I guess; but oftentimes my people are overwhelmed with negative images, bad news, and stereotyped characters about us. I’d like to flip that script. I’d like to remind us, as often as I can, how incredible we are. Read more