The V-Day Invasion
Another Valentine's Day has come and gone, and for bachelors like me, the going part of it far exceeds the importance of the arrival of this lovey-dovey holiday.

Yeah, that's right, I'm single. Don't dare mock me because of this, because I'm not the only one. Don't doubt my relationship ability, either. Look at me. I'm a stud. I'm irresistible. It's just that I choose to display my studliness on a timely basis. The question isn't if I can get a girlfriend or not, because I can. I've had girlfriends before; in fact, I had one in January, but it didn't last long. Not for the first time, it wasn't my fault, but hers. I won't go into the details, but I will say this: if a girl plays me for a fool, she's not going to get anything out of it. That's right: no luvin' for the heartbreaker. And you thought only guys were players? I say pssh to that one.

Anyhoo, back on the subject. Valentine's Day doesn't mean much, if anything, to me. It might mean free candy, but there's already an October holiday dedicated to that cause. To me it means that I must again resist the massive media badgering that goes hand in hand with any holiday. That means straining my way through the cheesy commercials, the pathetic pleading newspaper ads, and enough pink and red to overload my senses. Each business tries to outdo the other by telling the consumer what kind of flowers, chocolate, and kinky underwear to purchase for that "special occasion."

I have developed a solution to this annual advertising attack. Instead of having countless business trying to persuade consumers that if they buy the advertised product, they'll be the "perfect lover," why not have on store solely dedicated to Valentine's Day serve to replace the intrusive media invasion? Don't stop reading. Help me out here; I'm on to something big. The store could be called "Luv-R-Us," and it would only be open from Feb. 7 to Feb. 14. No worthless post-Valentine's Day sales for the pennypinchers hoping to stock up on romanticism for the following year. Heck, they could even have a drive-thru.

You see, if this did indeed happen, everyone would know where to go for Valentine's Day shopping. There'd be no decision-making process involved, and there would not be a strenuous battle of opposing consciences trying to decide what to purchase for your "sweetheart." If you'd ask me, I'd think that it's a good idea, but that's probably because I came up with it.

Because of my strict, anti-Valentine's Day advertising views, don't think that I am a cold person. I'm not. In fact, I'm probably the softest guy there is. But when you're single, Valentine's Day is no fun. You might as well dress in black and mourn for your romantic loneliness (or buy yourself flowers, which I admit, I've considered, but only momentarily, and I never even did it; I couldn't waste money), because by being single and experiencing Valentine's Day, you begin to find yourself wallowing and sulking miserably in meaningless fashion. Trust me on this one.

As I was saying, I am not a cold person. If I had a girlfriend, I'd be drowning her with overwhelming Valentine's Day propaganda. But if I look back on myself, doing this would be somewhat hypocritical. Love should be celebrated, yes, but does there really need to be a specified day to treat your love better than you normally do? Or is Valentine's Day an excuse for businesses to advertise their material and reap the green, incoming cashflow? Because if you really love someone, shouldn't you treat them special every day you're together?

In conclusion, I admit that this is basically a pity party. That's right, I'm sulking because I'm single. It's only a process, though. I'll be okay, honest (for all those single young ladies out there, my number is...in the book). Yeah, Valentine's Day doesn't mean anything to me. Well, maybe something. Or I could just be feeding myself lies. What other day could I wear heart boxers and have it be fitting? That's for you to decide (or not to).