So, this year marked my first solo Valentine’s Day in six years. Dreading the idea of spending my evening alone like a rotting spinster, I quickly texted one of my closest friends, Anna, and asked her out on a date.
“Prepare to be wooed,” I warned her.
She willingly complied, and we made reservations at one of our favorite sushi restaurants, Wasabi.
The night felt like an ordinary date. I wore a sexy lace dress and my favorite strappy platform heels. I even put on my special Juicy Couture perfume. She picked me up around 7, and we sped away to dinner. Laughing, I handed her a rose.
“You are trying to woo me,” she giggled.
“I’m trying my best,” I replied. “You look cute by the way.”
“I wanted to look nice,” she said giddily. “I tried on like five different necklaces. I feel like this is a real date.”
We erupted in laughter. The realization that we were really spending our Valentine’s together hit us. It did feel like a real date, and I liked it. At least I wouldn’t have to feel nervous about making casual dinner conversation or worry about looking brutish while using chopsticks to stuff my mouth with the Mango Lobster roll. I could actually enjoy my meal for a change. How refreshing!
After finishing our meal and flirting with the cute valet, we made our way back to a friend’s apartment.
“Time for Gossip Girl!” my bright-eyed date exclaimed. I concurred.
The rest of the evening resembled a less-glamorous version of Sex and the City. With champagne filling our Dollar Store Coca-Cola glasses, we devoured a spread of Havarti cheese and Cadbury chocolate as we longingly gawked over Chace Crawford’s seductive voice and handsome body. Swapping stories of past loves and idiotic boyfriends, we lounged on the couch for hours, blushing at our gossip and giggling in excitement.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” we toasted one another. Happy Valentine’s Day, I thought to myself.
So maybe I didn’t have a smooth-talking, cologne-wearing boyfriend to spend my Valentine’s Day with, but I had something a little bit better. I had the company of some of my closest friends who repeatedly refilled my empty champagne flute, told me how pretty I was, and spent the entire evening showing me the most important part of Valentine’s Day: love.
