Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Happy Valentine's Day to my Little Singles
The essence of tricky holidays, I always say, is to prepare for them. And it is not too late to buy--on the way to work, for example--a big bag of chocolate hearts for your desk. That way people will stop by your desk and smile when you offer them one. All that Valentine's Day goodwill! As a lowly temp, I always appreciated the ladies and gents who brought Valentine's Day chocolate to the office.
Of course, I also felt wistful about the big bunches of roses that messengers brought to the office, although I have to squint mentally to remember that, as I would prefer to think I beamed sentimentally, perfectly confident in myself and in my hopes for the future. Ah ha ha ha! No.
It seems to me that it would have been nice if God had gave me a teeny, tiny hint that my husband was waiting at the end of the Valentine's Day tunnel, and even though Valentine's Day 2001 was no great shakes, Valentine's Day 2012 might be cool. But now that I think about it, He did give me teeny, tiny hints, which were friends. Friends are God's way of telling you that you are a likable, even lovable person.
If there's a day when you're going to worry about whether or not you are a likable, even lovable person, it's the dreaded V-Day. And this is why, of course, I think Singles should arrange to spend part of Valentine's Day with their Single pals--unless you would prefer to spend it with children. Children have the right attitude towards Valentine's Day: for them it's all about making stuff out of construction paper, or giving those cheap punch-out valentines to absolutely everybody, and eating sweets.
Such childish innocence and enthusiasm is a direct contrast to the egregious mark-up on dinner in the chi-chi restaurants tonight. Really, my little Singles, if you are feeling wistful about your datelessness, have a look at the restaurant signs and calculate what you could do with the money you are not spending on prawn cocktails, etc. I mean to say, £45 a person. I could feed a fancy dinner with booze to six people for 45 squid.
Which is what I am going to do, of course. Perhaps you thought Auntie Seraphic was going to tell you all this stuff and then rush out to buy a red cashmere cardigan to wear over a slinky red number in preparation for a candlelit supper at The Witchery, where she was sure to be given a diamond bracelet with dessert? Mais non, mes petits. I am a woman on a mission, and so B.A. and I am giving supper to four utterly unattached (as far as we know) Singles. They are all immensely personable, so this is as much a treat for me as for them.
So with that to look forward to, I wish all of you a seraphic Valentine's Day, featuring chocolate, smiles and the affection of friends.