I saw the film Valentine’s Day the other night. It’s been in my Amazon Watchlist forever, and I thought it was time.
I had to scramble for the remote and hit the “pause” button when this line was delivered by George Lopez:
“To some people, love doesn’t exist unless you acknowledge it in front of other people.”
This is exactly what was up with all those 1-800-BOUQUET vans parked around the office buildings on Valentine’s Day, back when I worked in Manhattan. It was about validation. It was about esteem. It felt like it was about showing off, really – “Hey, I got a boyfriend, I got a boyfriend, and you don’t have one, that makes me better, nah nah nah NAH nah!”. It was like little kids boasting about having ice cream, a la an Eddie Murphy routine from long ago. The girls know the game is being played on them. The guys know they are expected to be complicit in the game, or they ain’t gettin’ any tonight. Hence the massive delivery of tributes to the office, where everyone is sure to notice that “somebody loves me”.
The game used to bother me. That was back when the idea persisted, despite having grown up in the “fish without a bicycle” era, that my worth was measured by whether or not a man wanted me, and how much or little he was willing to declare himself before the populace.
Nowadays, a tree falls in the woods and I don’t really care if there are witnesses. I need no external validation of the noise it makes. OF COURSE, it makes a noise! If I want flowers, then I just buy them myself and call it a day. And I don’t even wait for Valentine’s Day. That’s right, it’s complete anarchy here at Tinkerville. LOL!
Sometimes, though, I’ll send a picture of the flowers to Facebook. Just to let everyone know that I love me.