For That Someone Special

Did you enjoy your Valentine’s Day? You know, that Hallmark holiday dedicated to spending too much on greeting cards that no one reads, flowers that will die in a week, and chocolates that no one wants to eat because the Christmas weight has yet to be lost? It is definitely one of those quasi-holidays that I celebrate more out of a sense of obligation than a true belief in whatever it is really about. I don’t really know what St. Valentine did to achieve said sainthood, and does that in fact make it a religious holiday, and what exactly does it have to do with romance love anyway? My kids get all up in the Valentine’s spirit, wanting to know if their father or I want to be their Valentine. To which I say, Ew. No thanks. Incest. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Statutory rape. Ugh. It doesn’t sound like a happy Valentine’s Day to me.

I suppose it could be argued that the reason anyone gives a crap at all about Valentine’s Day is that Christmas is over and there is not a lot to look forward to for the rest of winter. The groundhog let us down once again, and the next big event is that Irish Catholic holiday dedicated to drinking. Come on, we all know alcohol is a depressant. We are sick of the snow and the cold, and we are fatter and not ready to buy bathing suits. Face it, February sucks.

So instead of pushing off from shore on the nearest ice floe, we put all of our focus on February 14. We have yet to lose those extra winter pounds and would rather be hibernating, but instead, we pretend to be in love. Women actually shave that winter growth off their pasty white legs and squeeze themselves into garishly red, whorish lingerie. Men splash on too much cologne and make reservations for restaurants that don’t even have beer on tap for a meal which will be slapped on an overdrawn credit card and paid off for months way after the last shrimp has been digested.

Wait a minute, that’s not entirely accurate. Some men don’t even realize it’s Valentine’s Day until they stop by the grocery store or the drug stores and have one of those Oh Shit! moments, grabbing the nearest thing they can find that is red or has hearts on it. But I learned last week that you have to be careful what you grab.

On Valentine’s Day, my sister LM and I waited in the check-out line at “Your Valentine’s Headquarters,” the local Kroger grocery store. In addition to the oversized Mylar balloons and hastily arranged red roses with baby’s breath stuffed in cheap vases in front of the check-out area, they had an interesting collection of gift baskets wrapped in cellophane on display along the registers. We saw one basket with chocolates and other gourmet edibles. We saw another with a bath scrubbie, some bubble bath, and a little packet of 3-minute mud masque. And we also saw one with a tube of K-Y Jelly and a box of condoms.

Yes, you read that correctly. They actually had a basket wrapped up with a small bottle of lubricant, a variety pack of Purex condoms (not to be confused with Purell hand gel, which offers a different kind of protection) and a couple of cheap champagne flutes. The only thing missed for the perfect Valentine’s date night was the gift card for Red Lobster and a bottle of Tott’s Brut. For the eternally optimistic, there was a basket also laden with rubbers and lube, but instead of champagne flutes, it held a matched pair of coffee mugs. Because sometimes you want to fall asleep in each other’s arms and hold each other all night long. And sometimes you are counting the minutes before you search for your left shoe and your panties.

My sister and I were beyond delighted by the thoughtfulness of the Kroger Floral Department, which had the foresight to create such romantic gift baskets designed to delight any couple in love, or at least lust. We could imagine how that went down.

Floral Department Manager: Gladys, we need you to make up some gift baskets for Valentine’s Day.

Gladys: Should I get some of them fancy chocolates from the top shelf of the candy aisle?

Manager: Don’t bother, just grab a couple of packs of condoms and put them in these old baskets we have leftover from Easter.

At least Kroger was touting responsibility while promoting fornication. I was impressed those baskets were for sale in Cobb County, Georgia. I began to imagine other baskets they should have considered. Maybe one with a pack of Kleenex, a bottle of Vaseline, and a Star Wars action figure. Or perhaps one with handy wipes, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and an over the counter package of Plan B emergency contraceptive. Or maybe one with a couple of cans of Fancy Feast and a copy of Eat, Pray, Love. A little something for everyone.

Last year, I was at Wal-Mart after Valentine’s Day, and I scanned the clearance table looking for cheap chocolate. They didn't have any good dark chocolate, but they did have some leftover heart shaped candy boxes. They had the standard red and lace trimmed ones, and even a more rustic camouflage patterned one, but my favorite said “Get Er Done” real big on the front. If that didn’t scream romance, I don’t know what does. But honestly, I think Kroger’s love baskets win for creativity and directness. For $16.99, someone was going to have a happy Valentine’s Day. Too bad we only celebrate that kind of special love one day a year.