Stupid Cupid

Valentine’s Day makes me feel like a lesbian folk singer. Janis Ian. Remember/ever heard of her?

Back in the day she had a song At Seventeen, at which age she learned the truth, that love was meant for beauty queens and high school girls with clear skinned smiles who married young and then retired.

The Valentines she never knew....

tell me about it, sister.

I honestly can’t remember getting a Valentine since a year or so out of college, working retail, when some high school freshman dropped off a flower for me at the store.

Not being Jerry Lee Lewis, I wrote her a note saying I was flattered, but she should try to find someone her age.

But I wallow, which is what single people are wont to due on a pseudo holiday - or any holiday as they force home the point that even though half of all marriages fail, YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE WITH SOMEONE, DAMMIT.

I liked Valentine’s Day when I was a kid, mostly because I enjoy candy. So, regressing whenever I can, I mark the day by buying those goofy cards and some treats and bringing them in to the office and giving them to all the women I work with.

By doing this I realized that guys sort of are idiots. Today it cost me not even $10 for the stuff and I got smiles and thank yous and hopefully built up collateral in case I need it when I’m a jerk, too.

What surprises me is I’ve been doing this for at least the last three or four Valentine’s Days, and no other guy has honed in on my shtick.

Then again, I’m home alone at 11 p.m. Valentine’s Night, so it’s not like somebody thought I was so sweet and hooked me up with one of her friends.

Still, it was sort of nice to be nice in a boyish sort of way (at least I hope no one interpreted gummy Lifesavers and a card with a “hot” dragon as sexual harassment.)