- by Owen Morton
As some of the more intelligent members of the human race who haven't been living in isolation for the last six years may have noticed, today is Valentine's Day. This is of course an intensely distressing event for pretty much everybody and I would, personally, advise that you just forget about it. This is, however, impossible. This impossibility was demonstrated at midnight last night, when the DJ at Toffs nightclub announced, with great glee, "Iiiiiiiiiit's Valentine's Daaaaayyyy!" He further went on to recommend that everybody there snog the person on their left, a suggestion which I rejected on the basis that a) the person on my left was James Millington, and b) it's impossible anyway (you ever tried snogging the person on your left when they're snogging the person on their left? Think about it. It can't be done). The point I believe I'm trying to make is that in our society nowadays it's frankly not an option to ignore Valentine's Day, thus making the only other possibilities either staying in your room all day and avoiding all human contact or those of us who are less fortunate in affairs of the heart, as I might put it if I wanted to be incredibly clichéd, being ridiculed by those who are more so. You can probably guess which category I come under, even though I did get three Valentine's cards today. I haven't posted them yet though. (Funny, eh?)
Valentine's Day has, over the ages, had some bizarre traditions associated with it. Just off the top of my head (or all right, not off the top of my head, more sort of copied out of the wondrous York Vision newspaper), I can detail the English tradition of "Women used to eat hard-boiled eggs with salt and then put green leaves under their pillow in the hope that they would dream of their intended." And that's not the strangest of them. What I propose to do in this article is to come up with some new traditions, which we could start doing every year at Valentine's Day. They could hardly be stranger than some of the ones that used to be practiced (and, okay, have since been outlawed, but that's beside the point).
The first tradition is for those who have an unreciprocated love. At precisely 22:00 on Valentine's Day, you must go to the house of the object of your affections and burn it down. Make sure the fire exits are all blocked for added amusement. For the more violent, windows can be boarded up beforehand so there is absolutely no chance of anyone escaping. However, this is going that little bit too far (no one can fault you for a harmless bit of arson, but uninvited exterior redesign, which is what this would amount to, is beyond the pail) and moreover, is quite obvious to anybody inside the house, so they may be alerted and get out before the fire actually begins! If you wish to be really clever, you could effect a daring rescue of your love just as they are about to be devoured by the flames, but bear in mind that this will look suspicious, especially if you still have the box of firelighters sticking out of your pocket.
The second tradition is one that is best used for couples who are relatively recently attached. The male (or in homosexual relationships, whichever partner wishes) tears a skirting board away from the wall and takes it down to the pub with him. The female may follow if she wishes, or sit at home and ruminate that perhaps she would be best splitting away from this obvious weirdo as quickly as possible.
The third tradition is for couples whose relationship is quite clearly breaking down. Both partners attempt to force a jam jar over the other partner's head. Whichever partner is the one on whose head the first jam jar breaks is then legally entitled to take the other partner to Hull and leave them there. This will ensure the relationship is over.
The fourth tradition is for happily married couples. They spend the evening in together and eat mustard powder whilst engaging in cordial conversation. By the end of the evening, the intoxicating effects of the mustard powder will be such that at least one, and probably both, will be inclined to molest a chipmunk. If a chipmunk can be obtained, the molestation can go ahead as planned (if only one chipmunk is available and both partners wish to molest it, they must take it in turns, eldest first). If there is no readily accessible chipmunk within two miles, both partners must kill themselves.
The fifth tradition is for divorced couples. Both participants go out to town and inevitably bump into one another accidentally (don't worry, this will happen without the need for you to arrange anything). The survivor spends three weeks in intensive care.
The sixth and last tradition is for those of us who are unattached and have particular desire to become so. You sit inside and think about your life until it gets to a point when you realize that in actual fact you would rather like to be attached, but it doesn't really matter who to. It is at this point that the drinking starts. Try to get through at least twenty seven units. If you haven't foolishly agreed to give up chocolate for Lent this year, you are entitled to eat as much of the stuff as you can cram down your throat. If you have, then you must personally make the decision as to whether to disregard it, especially since it's part of a religious system that you most likely don't believe in anyway. Basically, you spend the evening being miserable. Going out is no solace, because anywhere you go, you will bump into hordes of bloody couples. Certainly going to Toffs isn't recommended, if the DJ there tonight is quite so mentally challenged as the one yesterday obviously was.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is your guide to how to enjoy Valentine's Day, compiled by someone who'd obviously know because he's never actually had a girlfriend (or boyfriend, before some of you ask) in his life.