Valentine’s Day has been around ever since Chaucer started writing poetry back in the 1300s. For over 600 years, the 14th of February was set aside as a day for lovers to spend time with each other and to let each other know how much each of them means to the other.
Valentine’s was once a day when you would take the person you love aside and let them know how much they mean to you — a day to thank them for being in your life and to thank your lucky stars that you were blessed enough to find them out of the billions of people in the world.
Nowadays that meaning has been either muddled or lost completely. The fact that candy companies and Hallmark have taken over the holiday and turned it into a huge payday is beside the point; valentine's have been mass-produced since the 1800s.
What matters is not what you say or how you say it so much as it is why you are saying it. It is one thing if you are showering your lover with chocolates, flowers and hugs to show them how much they mean to you and it's another to be dishing out a couple hundred bucks for dinner just to get some post-dessert fellatio. What used to be a holiday for lovers has turned into a holiday for overpriced sex.
Let’s run through how most of your dates are going to go tonight (this goes for the men — you ladies just need to sit back and watch your phone get bombarded). Hopefully you have already managed to go through your entire contacts-list or Facebook-friends-list and have selected a possible few candidates.
Since you don’t actually care which one of these women you’ll be spending your Valentine’s Day with, it’s best you start with the hottest and/or easiest and go from there. You’ll take her to a restaurant that is probably outside of your budget, spend a couple of hours pretending to give a shit about whatever it is she has to say when in actuality all you want to do is to put a cork in her—literally.
Then, assuming you have gotten her liquored up enough to convince her to come back to your place and that you can afford the cab ride back, you’ll finally get to enjoy 15 minutes of meaningless, pointless, sloppy sex. Yay Valentine’s Day! This is basically what Generation-Y has turned Valentine’s Day into: a night to treat yourself to a way overpriced hooker.
Except that she isn’t a hooker; you’re just treating her as one. No matter how many teddy bears or heart-cutouts you try to use to cover up the fact, you still come out as an idiot. If you plan on dishing out that much money for sex then call an escort service--at least this way you’ll know she’s clean and willing to do whatever kinky shit you ask her to.
Valentine’s Day ought to only be celebrated if celebrated properly. If you have someone special in your life that you want to show your appreciation for, then you most definitely should spend Valentine’s with them, letting them know that you love them.
Using the holiday in order to con a woman into feeling like she means more to you than she actually does is not only cruel, it’s a waste of time and money. In fact, doing so defeats the entire purpose—goes against the meaning—of Valentine’s Day. Every year that you take out another ‘what’s her name with that fat ass’ is another year wasted—not to mention one step closer to a STD.
Treating Valentine’s Day as just any other night of drinking and fucking is, well, sad. Life and all it has to offer is only meaningful if you make it so. This is why we have created traditions—in order to give us something, or someday, to look forward to. If we continuously taint all the holidays and events that were once meaningful to us and turn them into another day to do the same things we do every other day, then life will begin to feel meaningless.
Age has already ruined Thanksgiving, Easter and Christmas for me. And while I am single and proud, I’ll be damned if I allow myself to ruin a holiday that can possibly one day be meaningful to me. So no, I won’t be buying roses and boxed chocolates for some random girl on my list.
I won’t be spending too much money on a woman whose name I can only remember if she were to wear a nametag. I will be doing what every single man in his 20s ought to be doing on Valentine’s Day: whacking one off to the new Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. I refuse to spend money for some ass—the weekend is only a day away; I’ll get some gratis.
Paul Hudson | Elite.