A Virtual Valentine

For singles and allies against the annoying.

Valentine’s Day is a fake Holiday, but remember when it was special anyways? As kids, we’d go to Walmart and pick out one of eight boxes of cardboard Valentines. Selections were limited to: “Babe Pig in the City”, Monster Trucks, Sleeping Puppies, Playful Kittens (in Yarn), Snoopy, Spiderman, Generic Messages (in Heart), and Activity Wildcard (Feat. the Almighty Word Search).

We’d trade “Fax Me” candy hearts for “U Rock”, and play Amazon delivery driver, dumpin’ and huckin’ our Valentine’s into the decorated paper bags of classroom friends and foe.

There was tradition and a school-wide sugar rush, but mostly, it broke-up the monotony of February. Leading up to Valentine’s Day, we knew we had a poor man’s Easter on our hands.

We’d be granted an all-access pass to suck on tin-foiled chocolates and spit out gram after gram of cinnamon hearts into our witching hours. We had a penciled in day where things would get a little unruly, and we’d probably get to see our teacher yell at us while she attempted to steer the ship back towards basic algebra.

It was a day of heightened play.

Now, it’s all overpriced prix-fixe and “don’t waste your money on the $100 flower delivery”, but also “Imma be pissed if you don’t get me anything”. Or, if you’re single, it’s all “who is gonna come out of the woodwork?” and the answer is: the person you want to hear from the least.

But, from the wise words of Sierra Storm (real person, real name) on Below Deck season 6: "if they message you on Valentine’s Day, they’re obviously into you, right?”. So, in that sense, Brandon the tow-truck driver saying “What’s up?” on a DAY LIKE TODAY is bankable evidence that you’ve still got it. It’s a digital “Ur Cute” candy heart dropping in your doilied paper bag.

Whether you’re single or a shacked-up ally, the essence of the Valentine’s Day (when it was actually cool) was never about love or romance. It was never an open call to gloat (like we’d ever be jealous of sibling-esque marital union). It not about Instagram declarations, red roses (for the love of God, hold the Baby’s-breath), or even the crotchless panties you’ve hidden in your underwear drawer for the last year. The day originated with us enjoying certain chaos, spreading blanketed kindness, and binge-consuming Red Dye 40.

And I’d like us to get back there.

Let this be your cue, a platonic and friendly reminder, that today should be a bit extra. So, take the XL long lunch break, hit up a Bulk Barn, say some nice things, and push the limits—it’s tradition.

U Rock XO, Grace