A single 26 year old slut living in Los Angeles is essentially screwed on Valentine’s Day and no, I don’t mean in a good way. I’m promiscuous, I enjoy sex, I can’t hang onto a man for longer than a few months, I’ve never been and never want to get married so in other words, there’s no hope for a gal like me on Single’s Awareness Day. I’m serious! What are my options? I can booty call someone and yes, get some action, give some head and call it a night but the truth is, this is the one day a year I wouldn’t mind being treated a little better, treated like I matter, perhaps even romanced. The proverbial “wine me, dine me, 69 me.” What can I say? Mainstream media has affected me! I’ve been slowly manipulated over the years into being disappointed on this day, this 14th day of the shortest month of the year, no matter what happens.
I fantasize about getting flowers delivered to me at work even though no one would see them and having flowers delivered to your office when there’s no one there to see them is like a tree falling in the woods but still, it would be nice. It would be nice to have received a card in the mail or some new lingerie or even a box of conversation hearts but alas, when you’re single and slutty and forever the easy-lay girl, things like that don’t happen to you because life is not Pretty Woman and no man’s gonna roll up to your shitty apartment that’s in a bad neighborhood in a limo with flowers wearing a suit telling you, “Everything is going to be okay, I don’t care if guys pay to have sex with you, I don’t care about your pimp, I don’t care that you’re penniless and going forward I commit to taking care of you for the rest of our lives of for the rest of this movie or until you get older and, assuming I can afford to replace you, I send you off to Florida or Las Vegas or some other habitat for Cougars of the female variety.”
As much as it sucks to be single on Valentine’s Day it sucks even more to be in a relationship. There’s this stigma attached to the holiday, this gauge we gals use to determine if our significant other’s attempts at romance and sexiness and chivalry are in fact, up to par. We mentally compare what our partners do for us with what our friends’ partners are doing for them: “He got reservations where?” “Long-stem roses?” “Are those real diamonds?” Meanwhile you’re supposed to get excited that your special somebody rented The Bodyguard and stopped at the In-n-Out drive through, even though burgers are your favorite and you don’t like diamonds but shit, she got them and doesn’t deserve them and look what I got, I deserve more and better and wah wah wah.
So if you’re single you’re screwed, if you’re in a relationships you’re disappointed, so what the fuck? What’s the point? This day isn’t about love! It’s about social politics and emotional consumerism and sugar and we all know that combination causes migraines and high blood pressure and pimples so why do we do this to ourselves?
If today is “Stress out about your relationship or lack of love life” day, then I think there should be a day to “Not think about your relationship or lack thereof and have random safe sex with a willing partner!” Think about it: A day dedicated to going to strip clubs, a day to download free porn, a day to watch porn, a day to masturbate, a day to cruise bars looking for sex and you’ll find it because it’s Sex Day and everyone out at the bars is looking to score, too!
I write a blog and tell stories and stuff so I asked my readers what their Valentine’s Day fantasies were and most of them said varying versions of the same thing: get fucked up and have a lot of sex! To some, it was a nice hotel and champagne and wild all-night sex. To others it was some great designer drugs and sexy lingerie and wild sex. The couples who answered were drinking wine and ordering in and staying up all night fucking. So really, all anyone wants on Valentine’s Day is good sex anyway, and instead you get an awkward dinner at a restaurant filled with nothing but couples having awkward dinners, the pressure to wear red or pink as you think, “Do I wanna be that girl wearing red or pink on Valentine’s Day? Do I want to be that festive or obvious?” and of course the inevitable disappointment because you’re emotionally high strung and quite sensitive because of the hype over romance and nothing short of Ryan Gosling showing up at your door and proceeding to lay on his Swayze moves with truly satisfy you.
So why don’t we just make today about the sex? It’s what we all want. It’s what we all need. It’s good for your body and your heart and your blood pressure and your self-esteem and shit, if there was a day dedicated to sex and porn and strippers and hired escorts and smiles and kisses and lots of cleavage and g-strings and we called it Red Light District Day or maybe even set aside a week for it like some hyped up over-sexualized Burning Man but instead the festival would be called Blowing Man and on the last day, Red Light District Day, everyone burned down a large penis statue and with it burned away their insecurities and doubts and worries re: our dysfunctional sex lives and then we all held hands, naked, while kissing, and… I’m out of breath. I’m also slightly aroused.
Have a happy Valentine’s Day!