Valentine’s Day has never bugged me too much, whether I was with someone or not.  I honestly never really thought about it.  But yesterday was different.  I did notice it felt a bit nice.  If you are dating someone on Valentine’s day, you are usually WITH them on Valentine’s day.  Even the hard core anti-V-Day-peeps have a hard time not holding someone’s hand on February 14th.  I like this.  I like seeing the flowers and the balloons and the packed downtown restaurants.  My sensitive gag reflex, usually triggered by teenagers making out on the subway, was numbed.  Love was in the air.  I smiled as I stopped on the sidewalk and gazed through the cafe windows at the good looking couples being so kind to one another.

The reason for this, I’ve decided, was the date I had on February 13th.  It was a blind date with a guy I met on the internet.  My first of these in years.  His profile was hysterical and after a few laugh-out-loud email exchanges, I went against every instinct I had agreed to meet him for a drink in SOHO.  The thing about meeting someone on a blind date is that you can tell in the first 4 seconds if this is going to work.  This was true on Saturday and it wasn’t going to work.  It was nothing he did, he was cute and nice but I’m pretty sure he had ADD.

He bounced up and down in his seat a lot.  And the wit that was perfectly honed when written out and perhaps edited, came out as insulting in person.  He wouldn’t drop the argument that all Texans wanted to be their own nation (he’s never been).  And when I diverted my eyes for a second, to scour my mind for the next question; he demanded to know what I was looking at.  When I answered nothing, he continued the next part of our conversation looking two feet to the right of my head to make a point.

But honestly, it wasn’t that bad.  Besides everything, and with the help of two martinis, it was an okay time.  But my favorite part came 5 minutes till the end of our date.  I had to go crash at work so Dallas could go out, so I started to get my things together.  He said.  “I’m trying to figure out a way to say this without being offensive.” I was intrigued and prepared myself to be critiqued on my dating style.  No need.

“Will you…go into the bathroom with me and make out?”

The guy had balls.  I laughed so hard, I spit vodka all over the table.

“Or on the street?” he continued.  “We could go out to the street.”

It was cold outside.  With windchill it was easily in the low 20’s.  I did consider the bathroom for a minute.  I used it earlier and the smell of fresh urine was overpowering.  But, it had been a while since I had drunkenly made out with a stranger in a soiled public bathroom.   And there was something intriguing to me about the fact that two people who didn’t really like each other could still shove their tongues down each other’s throats without too much awkwardness.  But I was late for work.

I politely declined his offer but congratulated him on his refreshing forwardness.  I left, laughing all the way to work.  So, I was okay on Valentine’s Day being alone.  From time to time, I miss being in a relationship.  But once that happens, once there is someone to go to lunch with and hold hands with on the subway platform, where is the adventure?  Where is the blog entry?  Where is the guy with the tattoos on his thighs who calls his mother by her first name?  Happy February 15th everyone!  Let’s all have fun this year, shall we?