Valentine’s Day Massacre, by Mick Shaffer

God, I hope my wife doesn’t read these posts.  I hope she takes about as much interest in this part of my life as she does the Maxim-magazine-collecting part of my life.  I hope she responds with the same consistency to, “Honey, go read Flip today,” as she does to the protocolary command of, “Honey, come play poker with the guys tonight.”

You know what?  Screw it.  She’s already mad at me for teaching the boys that, “Peeing in the tub is unholy, but peeing in the shower is okay.”  She’s already mad at me for leaving the Christmas lights up (February 24^th and counting).  She’s already mad at me for giving her the nickname Mamma Biscuit and then telling all her friends about it.  What more could this next sentence hurt?

Valentine’s Day should not be celebrated.

Shit!  What was that?  Did you hear that?  Was that her?  You’ve gotta tell me if you see Mamma comin’.

Anyway, Valentine’s Day has got to go.  It can be the dodo bird of holidays for all I care.  There surely has to be once-celebrated holidays that are now extinct like: Stop the Civil War Day or National Blacksmith Day or Doc.  Valentine’s Day can be grouped into that category for all I care.

At the very least, we’ve got to establish some rules about V-Day, because it’s getting out of hand.  And this rant has nothing to do with the fact that I spent over $200 on Valentine’s Day this year.  Nor does it reflect the sad truth that I actually watched the movie Valentine’s Day on Valentine’s Day.  However, I will be keeping a running total of money spent on Valentine’s Day (the holiday) alongside a count of A-list actors who turned in subpar performances in Valentine’s Day (the movie).

Movie tickets: $20.  Julia Roberts.

I believe the core flaw of Valentine’s Day is the expectations.  You can do candy or flowers or a card or a gift, but you’re really encouraged to do all of it.  Do all of it at some point between dinner and a romantically comedic film, that is.  Well, check that.  If you could involve a rose on a pillow or a surprise delivery at work, making it more of a day-long acknowledgement of love, then that would be best.  Hell, I’m just coming off Christmas when I bought you that spice rack and those Cutco knives you obviously wanted.  And now I’m supposed to dream up some other awesome gift.  Like what?  As Seen On TV Space Saver Hangers?  Well, this year I put my foot down.  I went in to Valentine’s Day intent on not buying anything for my Biscuit baby.

Roses, Russell Stover’s, Sweatin’ to the Oldies 3-Pack, Personalized Recordable Greeting Card: $59.  George Lopez.

Whoops.  To be fair, my wife never asks for anything.  But I just take the absence of a request as another wink-wink ritual of Valentine’s Day.  More protocol.  At least with purchases, there are parameters.  Used to be, you got flowers for your mom and some candy for your lady friend…ya know, if you were burdened with both.  Anymore, though, Valentine’s Day has extended beyond your immediate female relations, especially if you’ve taken the necessary steps to become married or have kids.  I mean, mother-in-law still has “mother” in the title.

Mothers’ Gifts: $24.  Jennifer Garner.

I’m really regretting the time spent and the calories burned pulling off those price stickers now.  Moms will always take what they can get.  But, kids throw shit-fits upon getting shut-out on any gift-giving day.  Thus, Valentine’s Day has gone the way of Easter and Independence Day.  Kids make a haul.  Since when do they receive Valentine’s Day gifts outside of Spiderman cards exchanged at classroom parties?  I remember a unicorn “Be Mine” card from Delilah Subera in 3^rd grade, but I don’t recall a Storm Trooper action figure from Mom & Dad.  So, while on my quest to find Valentine’s Day gifts, I was forced to make multiple stops (i.e. different Wal-Mart aisles).  The toy section got my business.  Nothing says “I love you unconditionally” like plastic Legos and Power Rangers.  I even got my dad a card.  Gross.

Gifts for Males: $15.  Ashton Kutcher.

Of course, the ultimate goal for guys in this great gift-giving venture is to put the “V” in Valentine’s (with your lady friend, not your mom).  What does it take to get laid?  I maintain you have to inch your way down the body.  Kind of like the Mississippi River.  Things flow north to south when wanting her to really “Be Yours.”  Diamonds for the ears, roses for the heart, and before you can arrive at the “box of chocolates,” you must satisfy the stomach.  Bring on the obligatory Valentine’s Day dinner.  For some reason, food that normally costs $14.99 is priced at $49.99 per plate on February 14^th.  And for some reason, your Valentine’s Day palate demands the most expensive restaurants in town.  In rebellion against this common holiday practice, this year I took Mamma Biscuit to Abuelo’s in Wichita.

Gas: $42.  Bradley Cooper.

Yes, I wined and dined her at the Mexican Chili’s.  In a town where a three bedroom ranch costs $85,000.  That…actually reversed the flow of the Mississippi.  Watch out, St. Louis, because you’re about to get Memphis’s shit-water.  Abstinence, here I come.  What can I say?  You’ve got to make cutbacks somewhere.  And Power Rangers ain’t cheap.  So the food had to be.  I think my three rum & Coke’s at the bar (my Valentine’s Day present to myself) cost more than our meal.  I told her to order the most expensive item on the menu, but I don’t think she heard me over the commotion of the other 246 people in a room equipped to hold 115.

Food and Drink: $60.  Shirley MacLaine.

That’s another thing.  The inflated Valentine’s Day prices don’t deter restaurant-goers, they multiply them.  I’m wondering if restaurants shouldn’t be pushing this luck more.  Perhaps they should create a Valentine’s Day in the Fall.  We had a “Morp” dance in high school a few months before its anadromic cousin Prom was held.  Maybe a September 14^th Enitnelav’s Day is in order.  At the very least, they could create a counter holiday that caters more to men.  Don’t get me wrong, I get heart-patterned boxers from Her Biscuitness.  And I appreciate them, even though they’re purchased from the same account as everything else.

Boxers: $11.  Jamie Foxx.

But Valentine’s Day is for women.  If men had a day just for them, we wouldn’t need anything for the ears or the heart.  All we would ask is to start at the stomach and work down.  One step process.  As if the Mississippi started in Arkansas.  Very low-maintenance.  Quite simply: Steak & Blowjob Day.

This isn’t something I’ve made up.  I wish I was that creative.  No, the idea of this holiday has been catching steam for a while now, with the emergence of online petitions and actual requests made to the U.S. Government to recognize Steak & Blowjob Day as an official holiday.  Of course, you don’t need it to be official to celebrate it.  You just need a willing participant.  Problem is, every time I bring it up, she correctly points out that I “don’t like steak.”  I then tell her that we could modify it to Hot Pocket & BJ Day, but then she tells me “that’s not the official name of the holiday and it wouldn’t be right to dishonor it.”  I then consider telling her I’d choke down the steak if she would too, but then I realize I don’t want to be turned down a third time.

If it ever did become official, the creators suggest that Steak & BJ Day be held on March 20^th.  First day of Spring.  I’m down.  I would have centered this entire post on the possibility of March 20^th, but, again, Mamma B could drop by at any time.

Potential Overall Cost of Steak & BJ Day: $7.50.  Patrick Dempsey.

Instead, for now we all just settle for Valentine’s Day.  Or, if you’re me, watching Valentine’s Day on Valentine’s Day.  With 18 leads in the film, they barely had time to fit in all the romantic comedy clichés.  But, in between scenes of a ditsy Taylor Swift making out with an idiotic Taylor Lautner—or vice versa—I notice that Jessica Biel’s character hates Valentine’s Day, too.  I notice other things about Jessica Biel, but that’s one of them.  Her character lampoons the holiday, hosting an anti-Valentine’s Day party on Valentine’s Day.  Genius!  But, she doesn’t hate the holiday because of the flowers and the meals and the movies.  She hates it because she doesn’t have any of those things.  She’s alone (Until she hooks up with Jamie Foxx, but, come on, that won’t last.).

So, I guess, looking to get out of Valentine’s Day isn’t near as bad as looking to get into it.  Because, no amount of money or Power Rangers can buy a Mamma Biscuit.  Unless you’re Patrick Dempsey, then maybe.

After all, my wife and I celebrate a “Valentine’s Day” on a weekly basis.  I’m always taking Our Lady of Biscuit out on the town, enjoying the finest cuisine.  I’m always dropping off random gifts at random times to my mom.  I treat every day in its own special way.

The above paragraph is completely false.  I just wrote it to feel good about myself.  But if there was some truth to it, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so obligated to go all-out for Valentine’s Day.  Maybe it would be like any other day.  We could settle for Shutter Island in the movie theater.  I could get away with an envelope full of gift certificates for “Free Hugs” as a present.

Maybe, if I stepped up my game the other 364 days, Valentine’s Day would be a breeze.

Nah, Abuelo’s sounds easier.