Valentine’s Day is frightening. Unlike Christmas and birthdays, there’s no real defined norm for what you’re supposed to do or spend. Flowers and chocolates? You’re probably not spending enough. Five-star dinner and a trip to Bali? You’re probably aiming a little high.
Or, you’ve got that single friend who won’t stop talking about how she doesn’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day this week, which we all know is a lie.
But no matter how you slice it, girls don’t mean anything they say around Valentine’s Day.
They say: You know Valentine’s Day is Sunday, right?
I hear: You’re a puppy that needs to be trained, and by the look on your face, you had no fucking idea that Valentine’s Day is Sunday.
They say: Girl’s night?
I hear: I’m going to get sloppy drunk on merlot and call text my ex-boyfriend, “Miss you,” in hopes that he’ll invite me over once we all leave the wine bar we just loudly took over.
They say: We’re not doing anything big this year, just something low-key.
I hear: If he’s dumb enough to believe this, he’s dumb enough to think I’d be okay with a silver engagement ring with a diamond under two carats.
They say: I don’t even like flowers.
I hear: I should probably re-download the PicStitch app just in case I need to post a photo of a bouquet, chocolate, us in front of a cityscape, and a card that says “I love you.”
They say: My Valentine this year is wine.
I hear: She’s going to spend Valentine’s Day on every dating app in the App Store, only to delete them all at the end of the night because she can’t find a picture of herself that she likes to put on them.
They say: I, like, don’t even care about Valentine’s Day.
I hear: But that being said, if you get me a shittier gift than all of my friend’s boyfriends got them, you’re going to hear about it until my birthday when you better get me something that comes in a blue, robin’s egg-colored box.
They say: Seriously, you don’t even have to get me anything.
I hear: I bought you something at the same time I bought your Christmas gift. If you don’t reciprocate, there’s a 0.0% chance you get laid, and a 100% chance we sleep in separate rooms tonight while you fall asleep to Training Day on Netflix.
They say: Getting engaged on Valentine’s Day is so cliche.
I hear: But honestly? I wouldn’t say no. After all, why the hell didn’t you do it on New Year’s Eve, Christmas, or fucking Thanksgiving?
They say: Why don’t we go to [insert name of restaurant that’s impossible to get into]?
I hear: I’ve already scoured every menu, every Yelp review, and have called ahead to see who still has reservations because you’re an idiot if you think we can just walk in anywhere whose main dish doesn’t consist of chicken wings or nachos. Oh, and this is place is Instagrammable AF.
They say: I’m spending Valentine’s Day with my one true love, Netflix.
I hear: The guy I shacked with last weekend is definitely not going to text me given that’s it’s February 14th, and I probably won’t hear from him again until he’s blacked out and horny on St. Patrick’s Day.
They say: But seriously, don’t make me say it again! You don’t have to get me anything.
I hear: A puppy. I want a puppy. .
Image via YouTube