Valentine’s Day Massacre
by Sarah Hepola, Kevin Raub, John Gonzalez, and Elena Rover
As I grew older, the game shifted, but not much. In every office I
ever worked in, Valentine's Day played out the same way. Some woman
receives a gorgeous bouquet of roses. Other women hover around her
desk, pretending not to hate her. Then those women return to their
desks and stab themselves through the eye with letter openers.
Roses are a lovely (if somewhat trite) gesture - but what's wrong
with giving them at home?
Christmas presents aren't usually sent to
work. Birthday presents aren't usually sent to work. So why do
people parade their Valentine's Day presents around the watercooler
like last night's concert T-shirt?
Of course, when I say people, I mean women. I've never met a man
who cared about Valentine's Day, which is another one of the
holiday's gross failings. It has become synonymous with frilly,
girly things - chocolate teddy bears and diamond pendants and silk
hearts trimmed with lace, all of which should be rounded up and
burned to, I don't know, fuel some third-world country. If
Valentine's is ever to be more than a Hallmark cliché, it has to
lose its doily image. It should be a holiday for both sexes to
enjoy. Why not plan a trip together? Take an adventure you've
always talked about but never really done? That's the kind of thing
it's good for - helping you both make good on promises, grab at
experiences you might not otherwise go after. To make a better,
stronger relationship.
Okay, I realize that, for most of us, Valentine's Day will remain
the minor annoyance it has always been - a cause for worry,
bitterness, and bounced checks. It's hard to make such a
commodified day into a private affair. It's hard to find a gift
mutually fulfilling and unique. So if all else fails, just buy an
iPod Nano. For the one you love, even if that happens to be
you.
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