You should able to get Valentines cards that say “You’re ok. You’ll do until the right one comes along.”
Ask any man what the worst day of the year is, and they’ll say “Valentines Day.” Hands down. For 30 years on stage. The men have shouted it out.
Even if the couple is married, he still hates it. You have to buy the flowers, the candy, the mushy card and then dinner, with a two hour wait. Oh boy, I can hardly wait. These chores mean you love her? I don’t think so.
What if you don’t love her? What if it’s a date because you didn’t want to hurt someone just before that dreaded day? I’ve done it. It’s because of the stupid, @#$?:?!# cards!
Think about it. You want to break up, but you go. You can’t taker her out sans the card or she’ll know, and it will break her heart. No decent man wants to do that.
So, you end up giving her some stupid card, telling her that she’s the only one for you. It has to make her cry romantic tears. That’s the rule, unspoken as it may be. The food is not important, but the restaurant is. Why? Because they all compare notes the next day.
There are even rules for the flowers. If she has a job, they MUST be sent there. They MUST make the other girls jealous. If you bring em’ home, you’ll score points, but with appreciation like you changed her oil. It’s expected. It carries a very short shelf life.
If your deed makes the girls at work jealous, that is the Coup de Gras, my friend. A romantic story to tell. Forget the fact that you’ve just thrown your brotherhood under the bus. The fact that yours got hers at work, means that “everything else better be perfect!
It can’t be Whitman sampler, the knock off from Wal Mart. It must be Godiva or Sees.
Its a very important process, which we will never understand. We’re ill equipped. It’s God’s greatest practical joke. We’re doomed. We do all of the work, and there’s still no guarantee.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of planning to do. Again, I love my wife!!
This is sort of a joke, so don’t get mad.