I think we single folk go a little crazy on Feb. 14. Some singles get driven to the edge of insanity because of the pressures of society to be in a relationship, and others go crazy trying to deal with those folks. I’m one of the latter.
I spent my V-Day like any other: school, work, school and then cheap beer night at Buck’s Pizza. The night started off quite well, with my roommate and I celebrating the four-year anniversary of the day we met (at an anti-Valentine’s party in Morristown), and then I jetted off to Buck’s to enjoy the single life with one of my girl friends.
A bar on V-Day is a single folk’s Mecca. All the cute, love-y couples are out sharing a box of chocolates and watching a $70 bouquet of roses start a wilting downward spiral to the trashcan, so we singles have the bars to ourselves.
This can turn out to be not so much of a good thing. I realize now that when you mix so many single people and a good amount of alcohol, the hormones start raging and every lonely person turns bitter or horny. I chose the former. But I witnessed the latter.
I watched one guy pull out all his dirty laundry (about the friend that I went to the bar with) and tell his bitter story to the entire bar, meanwhile embarrassing my friend and causing us to leave in a hurry.
I hate to be the one to bring it to everyone’s attention, but there is no need to make a scene at a bar. Have some respect.
I also had guy friend of mine tell me to call up a girl friend, wake her up, mind you, and convince her to come to the bar for what I can only presume was a third-party booty call.
I didn’t call her.
While all this is going on, I’m feeling like the only sane person in the bar, because all the other people have morphed into walking masses of hormones. Then I was reminded of Thomas.
Thomas and I dated two years ago when I was at UT. I haven’t thought of him in just as long. A fellow Morristownian and friend of mine brought his name up out of no where, and the realization slammed into me. Thomas and I stopped talking on Valentine’s Day. Ouch.
I quickly became bitter.
So after the debacle of my friend and the dirty laundry guy, we went back to my house to rant and rage about the audacity of the male species.
But there was more to come.
Last week my roommate opted out of the long-distance relationship she had been maintaining with her boyfriend. She immediately got hit on by a lonely co-worker. Needless to say, that’s not exactly what she is looking for right now.
So the three of us ranted and raged about the stupidness of guys for a while, and then I decide that the day had gotten to be a little much, so I went to bed.
Valentine’s Day was over, right? Wrong.
When I woke up yesterday morning I discovered that I had missed a phone call at two in the morning. A guy that blew me off a couple of months ago had decided to call me up. I can only guess that he was one of the horny ones who wanted some Valentine’s loving.
How can a holiday drive people crazy? Why can’t we control our emotions and hormones and behave like we normally do?
Monday is President’s Day. Maybe things won’t be so dramatic.

Author