Don’t forget THE important holiday

Gentlemen, every year I try and do my level best to warn you of “The Holiday That Must Not Be Missed.”

This particular holiday, which if missed can cause you loads of grief for an entire year, happens at the same time every year. It’s kind of like Christmas. It happens on the same date of the same month year after year after year.

And yet, there are still those among us who forget this particular holiday. And there are still those among us that pay for that oversight with really ticked off significant others for the entire next year until this holiday rolls around again and we get a chance to redeem ourselves.

The holiday of which I speak is Valentine’s Day.

The day is designed as one to show that special someone that you care, and that your care is not just based on how many beers are left in the fridge when you’re too inebriated to drive to the corner store for more.

What those of the opposite sex view as a day more sacrosanct than birthdays, Christmas or anniversaries (though forgetting any of the big four can really wreak havoc with your home life—or hoped-for home life) sometimes we approach with a cavalier attitude.

Don’t.

That’s the best piece of advice I can give you. Don’t forget this one. You have four days until Valentine’s rolls around.

You have some time here. Don’t waste it.

I have told tales in the past of folks I knew who forgot Valentine’s Day. Those tales were cautionary, and in some cases really messy.

And lest you think that a last-minute dash to the store for some aged-out chocolates and wilted flowers that have been picked over by every other forgetful male in the area will save you—think again.

Dashing back out from home after you’ve returned from work empty handed is a dead giveaway that you did the unthinkable. You forgot.

And unless you come home with a new car, a fancy diamond, or something else that will convince her to forgive you, you are facing a loooonnnngggggg year.

I try to make it a policy to walk through the grocery store late afternoon on Valentine’s Day. You can tell the guys who forgot that Valentine’s Day was upon us again. They are running through the store making a beeline for the candy and flower aisles, trying to beat the other six guys who just climbed out of their vehicles in the parking lot with that “Oh crap” look on the their faces.

Those are the same ones who might get away with having forgot Valentine’s because they do come home with something, except that they forgot to sign the card they picked, and left the receipt, with the time stamp, in the envelope as they hurriedly stuffed the card into the envelope, slid it under the ribbon on the expired box of candy and presented it all with a wilted flower and a shit-eating grin.

Last year, I saw the ultimate in male “get away with this” attitude.

At the checkout line, there are always cute stuffed animals nearby, most times a display of fancy chocolates, and a bucket of wilted roses to make it easy for us who forget “The Holiday That Must Not Be Missed.”

A middle-aged fellow, who should have known better, was helping his wife load groceries on the belt. She went through to start bagging and he stayed behind to finish loading and pay for the goods.

Suddenly he must have caught a glimpse of the frazzled males in other lines paying for boxes of candy and stuffed animals and roses and realized what he had done.

Now you must remember the logistics of this tale.

The wife is at the end of the conveyor bagging groceries. The husband is at the beginning of the conveyor. Her head is down paying attention to what she’s doing.

He, consummate genius that he is, steps out of line for a moment, grabs a cute stuffed toy with an already cute saying attached, a wilted red rose and—ready for this—places both on the conveyor to be rung up by the cashier.

The cashier dutifully rings up the purchases and passes them down the line to the waiting wife who picks up both items and stuffs them in a bag together.

He must have actually thought he was safe as he paid for the goods. He must have actually thought he had gotten away with it, put one over on the misses, snatched victory from defeat.

Or at least he probably thought that until they started to exit the store and she picked up the bag with her “gifts” and tossed it into the trash can outside the door.

The amazing thing was that her bag only added to the ones already there.

Please gentlemen. For your sakes. “The Holiday That Must Not Be Missed” is upon us.

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