Valentine's Day hurts so good

by Ben Grabow

Oh God, not another Valentine’s Day.

I didn’t think I’d be able to write this column. I figured I’d have to be in an extremely bitter mood to get down all the things I’d like to say, and up until now I’ve had a pretty good week. I got the classes I wanted and an A on an English paper. But luckily for all of you, last night was poker night, and I just lost this week’s lunch money. So let the ranting begin.

We’ll start with grade school. Valentine’s Day in grade school is a traumatic experience at par with climbing the rope or coming up to the board in math class.

I can climb a rope. I’ll climb anything to keep my lunch money from the fat kid. And I’m not ashamed of my utter lack of algebra skills. I’m sorry, but letters aren’t numbers. And I don’t care if that’s the point. Shut up, or I’ll climb away from you.

You see, Valentine’s Day isn’t about physical or intellectual prowess. Especially not in elementary school. And I’d tell you what it is all about, but apparently I don’t know. I certainly didn’t know then, either.

Girls used to choose the least suggestive candy hearts to put in my valentine box. The ones that said “Hi,” “Nice” or “Don’t touch me.”

But at least I got candy hearts. In elementary school, they force you to hand out valentines. Even the fat kid got a valentine. Along with most of my candy hearts.

In high school, you aren’t so lucky. This is when the true horrors of Valentine’s Day set in. The only thing worse than missing out on a valentine or two is knowing that everyone else has a valentine. In high school, they let you know.

First of all, everything turns pink. It’s a specific shade of pink, known as Pepto-Bismol pink. Ironically enough, it manages to induce nausea. Crayola actually tested the color on a few classrooms in the ’80s, but opted to leave it out of the 64-color box after several incidents involving truckloads of sawdust and a great deal of mopping.

Once the hallways are awash in a sea of pink, the flowers arrive. Try to imagine how many flowers die on Valentine’s Day. Those flowers were born to die. It’s depressing, isn’t it? Why doesn’t anyone else think so? Ah yes, because everyone else is getting flowers. Those flowers died for you. I hope you’re happy.

I’m not saying I want flowers. I’d rather have something I could use, such as cereal. Even a paperclip would be nice. I’d use it to clip together all of those valentine’s I’m not getting.

And with the flowers comes the kissing. And the hugging. And the snoogie-woogums, pookie-wookies and vomiting. Lots of vomiting. The flower industry may do well, but I’d put my money in sawdust.

But did I forget about chocolate? Where does all the chocolate come from? Who eats all of the chocolate? Girls don’t eat the chocolate. There are about 26 calories in the word chocolate. And you’ve just read it at least five times. Start running.

Valentine’s Day is an awful, awful day. Did you ever wonder why February is at least two days shorter than any other month? It’s because Valentine’s Day is so horrible that it ate the other two days.

If, at this point, you still aren’t sure of exactly how I feel about Valentine’s Day, take this little test. Simply replace the words “Valentine’s Day” on your V-Day cards with “Castration.” Try it, it’s fun.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve had decent Valentine’s Days. Everyone’s had at least one decent Valentine’s Day. It’s enough to almost redeem every traumatic Feb. 14^th of the past. But ultimately, the bad years take over. It’s because Valentine’s day is the holiday we love to hate. It’s that rare day when you should feel miserable to be single, but you love to feel sorry for yourself.

Wait, what am I talking about? You people are all dating, and I’m the only single guy on campus. That means you’re dating too! I’ll bet you and your loved one are reading this together right now. I’ll bet you even take turns flipping the pages! You sickos. Get a room.

— Ben would like to wish his snoogie-woogums a Happy Castration, wherever she is. Send him an e-mail at Benjamin.Grabow@ohiou.edu.