Did you get lucky?

Valentine’s has been and gone… the roses have been cut, delivered and exclaimed over. The pounds have passed the hands of the ‘romantics’ and have registered in the bank balance of the Interflora masterminds. ?40 for twelve bursting buds? You betcha. Now THAT’S love.

Was it worth the cash? Well, as a recipient, I guess it was. I got the first office bundle of petals for the day and had the joy of parading home with them held high. The jealous (and a tad malicious) stares of bouquet-less girls scared the life out of me. I would have broken out into a cold sweat if I hadn’t been busy trying not to poke my neighbour in the eye with a stray stem.

It makes me wonder… what makes a perfect Valentine’s Day? Is it gushing over sickly sweet cards covered in pink fluff, a bouquet of flowers, jewellery, a romantic dinner or ‘gasp’ – a proposal?

More often than not, men seem to feel pressured into displays of affection on the 14th of February. A last minute lunch break trip to the card store confirmed my theory. Forget invading a locker room for insight into a man’s psyche; just eavesdrop on the conversation at the hallmark rack on valentine’s Day – priceless.

Like bloodthirsty wolves, young London businessmen obviously shop in packs. Maybe it helps to combat the piercing glare of pink catch phrases. Either way, it soon became clear that the lads have some ‘phrases’ of their own:

“If I get this one she’s bound to bang me tonight”.

“Nah man, get one that sings and she’ll bang you all week”.

Do women really make life that hard for the testosterone filled out there? Does a present constitute a kiss? Is a home cooked meal the end to celibacy? Is Valentine’s day just an excuse to get down and dirty at least once in the year?

For some, it seems this is indeed the case. Which means that the singles of the world need not look at the bouquets of flowers with envy. Clap your free hands and thank your lucky stars – you can get lucky any time, any day, with anyone – and it will cost you nada. You can get through the day without a care in the world and nothing but a fine cocktail calling your name.

Slow service in restaurants will not cloud your evening, if you cook at home – you can do it yourself. No fancy attempts at entr?es, no burnt tuna steaks-a-la-raw-as-hell and no charred egos.

I destroyed the entr?e, battled with the fish and scowled at the mountain of dishes. He fell asleep fifteen minutes into the soppy Johnny Depp film ‘Chocolat’ and I flaked it soon after on the couch.

I did extremely well though… a Prada necklace, flowers and a ‘hot saucy loving’ kit. Either he’s got a reason to suck up or he’s giving me a hint. Next year we’ll just have to try to stay awake long enough to find out.