Tennyson wrote, "In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." In the middle of February, however, we've got more important things on our mind: sealing windows, radiator fluid, and basketball.
Let's face it, Valentine's Day is probably placed on the stupidest day of the year for a romantic holiday. You'd think the calender people would've realized that when they noticed cupid is wearing a loin cloth and not a parka.
Here's how the typical Valentines Day goes:
Man shows up at his date's door at 7:00 pm and it's already been dark for two hours. He's wearing three layers. His date is also wearing 3 layers. Both look 30 pounds heavier, because of it.
No clever small talk on the way to the car. Instead, they both shuffle as fast as possible to get to the car yet slow enough not to slip on the ice.
At the overbooked restaurant they wait in their layers for a table, secretly sweating and praying that they don't soak through their dress shirt/blouse.
Finally, if the Valentine's date is a success and they move things to the bedroom. They are likely to come into contact with their lover's sexiest appendage: an ice cold foot.
So, can we please move Valentine's Day to the spring?
Women, you have no idea what's it's like on that first warm spring day when, like a field of daisies, it seems that cleavage, calves, and shoulders have blossomed everywhere. The world seems flush with beauty and possibility as your soft hair tosses in the sweet spring air onto your exposed shoulders. If a declaration of love were ever apt, it would be then. Instead, we have to make our intentions clear when your only exposed flesh is a dry face with a red sniffling nose. No wonder you're disappointed in us.
