Commercialization & clarification

February 15, & the annual "it's so commercial -- I didn't do anything, you don't mind, do you?" festival has ended.

Certainly the holiday is overly commercialized, & doubtless just another way for florists, stationers, & chocolate-makers to increase their bank balances.  But the best time to propose skipping that routine is after someone has spent two or three hours, on a busted foot, no sleep, & no coffee, stumbling around various neighborhood joints to find cards for you, your parents, & her own parent that are (a) affectionate but not revoltingly soppy, (b) suited to the recipient, & (c) in English (in this neighborhood, the third is by far the toughest).  Even better, suggest it a few weeks after also providing that someone with a high-priced shopping list of suggested presents, including, but not limited to, Skyrim: The Elder Scrolls V, the only appeal of which is that it might possibly decrease the amount of time you spend slouched in your chair playing World of Warcraft, although it should still serve nicely as an excuse for you to avoid any boring, necessary jobs that you've agreed to take on at home.


This is not Japan; you are not Japanese; & you are most definitely not a high school boy in an anime who can expect to receive handmade chocolates from girls on Valentine's Day.  But if someone has stayed up most of the night to indulge this fantasy by struggling with chocolate that threatens to seize & molds that do not want to give up their contents, mumble that you will make it all better on White Day, a month away (& not incidentally well into Lent), & strike a blow for non-commercialism by hopping out of bed & moseying off to work without leaving behind so much as a card.  Bonus points for noting that there is a small pile of cards & a somewhat larger pile of items (including Skyrim) wrapped in red tissue waiting for you.

Should you get to your office & find the large box from a very good chocolatier that has been sent to you so that you can be the only engineer in that area code (or possibly time zone) who can prove he received anything at all on 2/14, swan about the office like a Studly Dude & share it with those less favored, & enjoy knowing that the groggy chocolate-maker & -buyer will get to her office & find not so much as an ecard waiting for her there.  Unreciprocated chocolate (or flowers) is like unreciprocated blowjobs: nice work if you can get it.

Be sure to call that someone at work & murmur sentimental crud into the telephone, too, just so there's no chance she can think you forgot what day it was.  Doubtless she'll come staggering in the door at 1 a.m. & leap into wild sexual congress with you. 

And you had best make peace with any gods you follow, b/c your non-commercial self will be face to face (or tentacle, or cloud) with them very, very soon.