There are just some people who come over all hearts and flowers and pink-foil balloons and Hallmark-card sentiment around St. Valentine's Day and others, like me, who so do not. I snarl. I sneer. I scorn. So what am I doing here?It's as if we're twins! (And I will just toss in Mother's Day and Father's Day into that selection that I sneer at and scorn.) Except that since resistance is futile I insist on going to dinner with Tom on Valentine's Day.
Well you might ask. The thing is, sooner or later, you're browbeaten. To keep moaning on and droning against it is to be a party-pooper, like someone who complains so much at a game of charades that she draws unwelcome attention to her one feeble effort. It's a bit like the Borg really: Resistance is futile.