I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day.
When I was single, my other single friends and I would get together and have a date with each other on February 14. It was a logistical nightmare as all the usual places are fully booked and managing schedules of people from different professions (accountant, IT specialist, PR, researcher, journalist, architect – we are a varied lot) makes it ell altogether. But we managed it somehow. It was our way of rebelling against the stereotypical Valentine’s Day date.
Of course, when Ipe and I became a couple, we tried the date routine too. But only once, on our first Valentine’s day together.
I still remember it was almost 8PM and I was very hungry coming straight from a twelve-hour work day.Ipe picked me up at the office with that requisite bouquet of roses. Since neither of us are very good with the reservation thing (we usually just eat where our stomachs lead us), imagine our despair when we roamed around the Glorietta and Greenbelt restaurant row and found all the nice places full.
It took as almost two hours until we finally stopped in front of Pancake House (was it in the old Greenbelt building?). Lo and behold – it was almost empty. That was when I started loving Pancake House – that single night of saving me from hunger. Haha.
And I was like? What the hell is all the fuss for one single day? Nowadays, we are bombarded by endless commercials and ads advocating Valentine’s Day. No, I’m no Scrooge. It’s just that celebrating on February 14 (or even any day in the whole month) feels so contrived and so commercialized that I often wonder if there is some conspiracy going on.
So, no. Ipe and I don’t have any special plans for Feb. 14.