Yes, as you’ve guessed by the blog title, I am a singleton on Shameless Commercialism Day Valentine’s Day. But the good news is, I had a Valentine’s card! The bad news is, it was from Tom, the 89 year old pensioner I check in on.
Well, at least I’m not working in an office any more. Long gone are those awful days when everyone else received bouquets of flowers, accompanied by ‘oh, I didn’t know that was going to happen’ squeals from various women jumping up and down at the sight of a few roses.
The same women who, a week earlier, could be heard saying in the toilets, ‘…I’ve told him, if he doesn’t send me flowers this year, he can whistle for, you know…’
Now my inadequacy is shared only with the cat (she watches the letterbox every day) and she’s on my side. I whinge to friends that I hate the tacky commercialism of Valentine’s Day and my heart sinks when all the gooey stuff appears in the shops just after Christmas. No sooner have the ‘Merry Christmas, my squidgy, squashy Boyfriend’ cards been packed away, I’m assaulted by a sea of red and pink. And roses. And fluffy little teddy bears with ‘I Wuv You’ scrawled across their chests.
And what’s this whole thing with chocolates? Oi, loved-up people, you get the flowers, you get the meal out, you get the jewellery. Can’t you keep your smug little paws off the chocolate – it’s for us single ladies. See it as our consolation prize.
Of course, if I was loved-up, I would be starry-eyed with rapture at being presented with a dozen red roses, a Tiffany necklace and a huge box of pralines (my favourites). I would benevolently smile down upon the lesser, single mortals, with pity and not a little smugness. May they too find love, poor, sad, lonely peeps. But I’m not loved-up, so I can’t. Sniff.
This Valentine’s Day then, I will mostly be listening to ‘I Am Woman’ (over and over again), hoovering up the Maltesers I stashed away from The Teenager and sitting on the sofa in my comfiest, slobbiest pyjamas. I may even put a face pack on and paint my toenails. Valentine’s Day? Meh…
Ah, how sweet of Tom of think of you . . .
Reminds me of the time I was in charge of contracts at the Parks & Recreation section of my local council. (This incident still makes me cringe just writing about it!)
Anyway, one Valentine’s Day the woman on reception came marching into our office with a massive bunch of red roses, chirping up: “Jan’s got an admirer.”
My first thought (amid the sweaty-palmed panic) was that surely the girlfriend wouldn’t embarrass me by sending flowers to the office – I’d only been there 5 mins and hadn’t yet had my ‘coming out’ chat with my colleagues (It was a big thing back in those days!)
Anyway, the other girls gathered round – “Come on then, who are they from?” they urged, as my face began to turn redder than the roses.
“Someone called Colin . . .” one of them said, catching site of the label.
Colin? I didn’t know any Colin . . .
Then it all became clear as Jeanie chimed up: “It says, with love from Colin . . . and Prince xx”
A titter went around the room. Several titters actually.
My roses were from a b—-y security firm boss who had one eye on winning the parks’ security contract!
So not only did I have to cope with the embarrassment of receiving roses I didn’t want, I also had to phone up Colin (and Prince) and politely explain why I couldn’t accept the bribe – sorry, gift.
And no, Colin didn’t get the darned contract!!
Have a great day!
Jan
Oh Jan, that’s so funny!!! Luckily nothing as embarrassing as that has happened to me (yet).
Although…. I once went out with a journalist who was rather partial to drink. We were in Scotland and I sent him out for ferry tickets to one of the islands. Nice little day trip. This was in the middle of winter,so luckily I had my thick leather jacket, jeans, boots, etc.
Well, he must have started early as he came back with two tickets to The Gambia, flying that night. From Manchester. I was probably the only person landing in Africa dressed for winter.
Those were the days….
X
Ha! Where on earth did you get the “Meh” heart? I love it! Second important question: how is “whinge” pronounced? “Wine”? Strange business, your side of the Atlantic…
Anyway, fab post. Hoover away and enjoy. Sounds like a perfect way to spend the day. It’s all bollocks (!!) anyway.
Do you know what, I was scrolling through images, and I remembered what you said about me saying ‘meh’, so when I saw that I chuckled away thinking ‘CrankyPants is going to LOVE this’!!
Whinge is pronounced win (as in win something). I do it a lot, moan and complain, lol.
I am now back home after tiling a floor for the builder. I can barely move. He bought a lovely lunch and in the bottom of the bag was a nice little box of chocolate hearts. Aw, bless him. Then he ruined it by saying it came free with his meal deal. Meh.
X
Right you were – I DID love it!
Meh, indeed, on the free chocolates. Well, I hope you’ll enjoy them anyway in your incapacitated state.
I am aching ALL over. But what a sense of achievement. Even if some of the tiles are a bit wonky. The grout will cover it, hopefully.
Bring on the weekend…
x
Great post once again and I am finally up to date and can comment
Thanks Mark!
Glad you caught up, lol. Missed your comments…
x