It’s Valentine’s Day and I want to go find Cupid, break his bow and arrows, put him on my lap and smack his ethereal behind. It’s love messages everywhere I turn and I’m sick and tired of it. Even my bank sends a Valentine’s email: “Back up sweet words with sweet deals…with our Naira Mastercard.” Back up my butt! I’ve been in marketing since dinosaurs roamed the earth. I recognise a hustle. I’m spending diddly squat this Valentine, thank you.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a lover man. I love tequila. I love nkwobi and ugba. I love to be left alone. Yeah, I like love. But my problem with Valentine is the commercialisation of love. It’s become a materialistic affair. Back in the days on February 14, 1654, my grandaddy goes into the forest, drags a seven-foot Gaboon Viper out of its hole and makes my grandmummy matching Hermes bag and sandal with the skin. But these days, rather than for fellas to wrestle a silverback and strangle an anaconda to win a girl’s heart, they just pay for BBL and hair. I mourn the loss of chivalry.
Needless to say, I won’t be celebrating Valentine today and possibly in the future. This old goat is tired. That is the problem with age. I’m too old for the mass hysteria. Valentine is but a commercial celebration of romance. It’s like Black Friday: businesses just want to help themselves to your wallet. It doesn’t matter if you found your jolly sailor bold or tasted true love’s kiss. Just pay for the dinner, spa, get-away or gift, thank you, sir. Even lottery companies offer Valentine deals. That’s like Tom offering Jerry cheese. Don’t take it, Jerry!
But hey, I don’t hate enterprise. I’m just sick and tired of skin-deep pseudo-love messages. Besides, a brother can’t seem to catch a break. We wined and dined in December. Then in January, we paid school fees. And now, it’s Valentine. It’ll be Easter in March and then another school fees in April. How about Give-A-Brother-A-Break Day?
Luckily, the missus feels the same way I do. She prides special days over Valentine. Birthdays, wedding anniversaries and travels. Those are proper opportunities to show love. And for a bloke like me who finds gifting a tad stressful, what can I say; she’s a wife from heaven.
Tonight, I’m going to be ensconced on my sofa, remote in hand, flipping between the Bayern and PSG matches. And if the missus wants to give a brother a swell Valentine, well, here’s a pointer: how about coming into the room with good food and stark naked?
Happy Valentine, ya’ll!