Valentines Day

Enjoy!

Valentine's Day no fun for the loveless

February 03, 1999

You can feel the excitement that only comes when Valentine's Day is just around the corner. For most people this is a romantic time of year to spend with that special someone.

You might go out to a fancy dinner, go ballroom dancing, exchange woefully cliched gifts and do other things that can't be put in print. But not for me

I like to look at Valentine's as an annual reminder that I'm going to die cold and alone (unless I die in a plane crash, whereas then I would die in a ball of fire surrounded by lots of people).

I usually spend Feb. 14 at home by myself with a paper bag over my head watching reruns of Punky Brewster and Max Headroom.

Every once in a while, the doorbell will ring. I'll answer it, only to to find a jovial couple that decided to take time out of their happy Valentine's Day date to come by my house and laugh at how lonely I am. I'll then give a depressed Morrissey-esque moan which is drowned out by their hysterical laughter as I slam the door.

It's a bit like Halloween except instead of the trick-or-treaters taking candy from me, they take away my dignity.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that after the third ring, I'd just stop answering the door, but I always hope that it might be someone there to love me. I fall for it every time.

Last Valentine's Day was a bit different. I was lucky to only have seven couples to visit instead of the usual nine. I was invited to a party, but I wasn't about to go. The only thing I hate more than parties is my friends.

I was almost out of food, so I was reduced to making a baking soda sandwich.

I sat down, took off my paper bag, and sank my teeth into the sandwich with a cringe.

Suddenly, I was visited by the ghost of Oscar Wilde. "Why so glum, Trav?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Oscar." I relied.

"Do I really deserve such a response?" he asked in mock indignation. "You know, the mark of a true gentleman is one who is never unintentionally rude."

I smiled, "Goodness, Oscar, you're the wittiest guy I know. How come you haven't visited me earlier?"

"Dear Trav, I never put off till tomorrow that which I can possibly do the day after."

"Very witty, Oscar." I said. "Tell me, what is the secret of being loved?"

"There is one thing in the world worse than being talked about and that's not being talked about." Oscar quipped.

"That's very witty Oscar but it really doesn't answer my question." I told him.

"Why you little ingrate! That's it! You're the last self-loathing wannabe-poet I'm ever going to visit," he said.

"Oh, I think Babylon 5 is on," he said and vanished. I didn't even have the chance to challenge him to an arm-wrestling match.

The doorbell rang. I walked to the door and asked "Who is it?"

"Jehovah's Witnesses!" they yelled back.

"Jehovah's Witnesses?" I asked, opening the door. "Thank God! For a second there I thought it was those..." But before I would finish I saw a happy guy and a happy girl burst into uncontrollable laughter. I'd fallen for it again.

I know I'm unlovable. I require no reminding of that fact, as every moment of my miserable existence is a testament to the fact that I will die as alone and unloved as I was the day God made me.

I would like to ask a favor of all the lovable people reading this.

As you are going on your fun dates this Feb. 14, keep me in mind. Remember those less fortunate people cared about by few and loved by none. Be sure to dedicate 7 seconds of lovemaking to unlovable people like me.