Valentine\’s Day, She loves Me, She loves …
We were sitting around my girlfriend\’s kitchen table and of course, as “girl talk” goes, one thing lead to another. Being writers, we relate everything to “months” and what\’s going on in the “month.” We knew the next event in a writer\’s world was Valentine\’s Day. Inspired by this, and secretly looking for fodder, I said, “If you could do anything you wanted to do on Valentine\’s Day, just for this one day, what would it be?” I was expecting to hear them say things like “Oh I\’d sweep me and my hubby off to Barbados for a weekend filled with pampering and love.” Or even something like, “I\’d hire Emeril to come in and cook sugar pie honey bunch the best meal he\’s ever had, all by candlelight, and then…”
NOT. The responses I got were,
“Anything? You mean anything at all? And no repercussions, right? Well, that\’s a no-brainer. I\’d have someone come in a clean my house while I lay out at the pool sunning… with the pool boy. All the while I\’d be dictating the world\’s greatest novel called, “How I Traded Laundry for Life.”
And then my other friend said,
“Well, first I\’d start my day by being on Oprah and I\’d be giving HER advice, and of course, Dr. P too. They would be hanging on my every word. Next I\’d be on the Concord toward England where I\’d spend the weekend in the company of Rod Stewart who would adore me, slobber all over me, and sing to me, in a tux … or…”
Either I got some really depraved friends (which is a possibility) or Valentine\’s Day has lost some glow. On second thought, not only is it not glowing, it seems to have been snuffed out. Smothered. Caput! I couldn\’t believe my ears.
I slammed down my bottled water and said, Hello? Women foaming at the mouth? Remember me sitting here? What\’s going on? What happened to a box of chocolates and a dozen roses? A Hallmark, for Pete\’s sake! A Jacuzzi filled with bubbles and a trail of red hearts leading from the front door to the bathroom? One red rose found tape on the commode lid? HELLO? Does this mean that all romance between husbands and wives is dead? Between boy and girl? Significant other and insignificant?
They stared at me for a minute and then one of them said, “Honey, we\’re talking Rod Stewart.” I said, “Righttttt … Where were you?”
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