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Feb 2012 15

by Laurelin

I have always felt a little indifferent about Valentine’s Day. It seems cliché to hate it, stupid to love it, and all in all, just another day of the week. I don’t think I have ever had a spectacular Valentine’s Day even when I was in a relationship. In college, my boyfriend at the time told me we were supposed to go to dinner and then he wound up not being able to afford it. I was crushed. But I remember one other day, in the middle of the summer when he left a single red rose under my windshield wipers, and he hid so when I looked around the parking lot I didn’t see him until when I turned around, he was right there kissing me. It was one of the most romantic moments of my life, and it was also just another day.

A few Valentine’s days ago my boyfriend at the time and I went to a romantic dinner at a candlelit historic restaurant in Boston’s Beacon Hill district. The tables were so close together and we were both so tall that we looked like bulls in a china shop trying to be classy and quiet amidst normal sized couples. We wound up eating so much food and dessert that we couldn’t even make room for drinks afterwards, and we were both massively uncomfortable for the rest of the evening. Sexy.

I feel like Valentine’s Day is just one of those days that winds up making people feel bad, so I usually just do what I always do on every other day: hit the bars. If anyone is out at a bar in Boston on Valentine’s Day chances are they’re single. The odds of running into a guy lying about having a girlfriend on Valentine’s Day are slim to none, so I look forward every year to some guilt free bar scene action.

One year ago today I was with four single friends. One guy had just been dumped (they got back together), one had just been snubbed my by best friend and was nursing a bruised ego (he is now happily in a relationship), and then there was me and my friend Lindsay, two girls who can’t seem to be tamed. We were drinking twenty three ounce Harpoon UFO drafts and knocking back shots of Jameson when I glanced up and happened to meet eyes with a guy standing across the bar. I leaned into my friend Jay not-so-stealthily, “he’s CUTE!” I whispered, quickly looking away, my cheeks burning.

Not two seconds later I had a shot of Patron placed in front of me, and the bartender gestured towards that guy across the bar. “It’s on him,” the bartender said. I looked up and the guy was holding a shot as well, and I knew that there was no turning back now, I had to rip this shot and act like tequila didn’t make me throw up in my mouth. Turning down salt and lime, I got the shot down the hatch and stood up to go say thanks. I flashed my best smile and held out my hand, and I met Dan.

I remember leaving the bar that night with a smile stuck to my face. Who goes to a bar and meets a guy on Valentine’s Day? It was perfect, so sappy, so lame, and oh my god, why couldn’t I stop smiling? That night was the start of something that wound up being silly, tumultuous, fun and pretty important. Dan has become a staple in my life, someone I call when I need advice, need a drinking partner, need a pep talk on getting over an ex. We just got back from an 11 day cruise with a few other friends, and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in crime with whom to spend that time in paradise with. Looking back one year later I can’t help but still have a smile stuck on my face.

It’s funny, how life works out. I always thought that Valentine’s Day was just another day, and it is — but you never know when life is going to hand you someone special — and as always, extra points when that someone special is holding a shot of tequila with your name on it.

***

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