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A Valentine’s Date: From the Man

Richard Rhoden, Editor in Chief

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She sat in front of me in Biology every day, but every time I tried to talk about anything other than our hypothesis of the lab, I froze up. But this was different. It was Valentine’s Day. Her luscious brown hair flowed like waves of grain in the summertime.

It was now or never.

As Dr. Jones let out class, I pounced like a lion in the Sahara.

“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” I asked, sweating through my t-shirt.

“Oh, not that I know of,” she said. I could see a hint of hope.

“How about you come to my place about 7 tonight and we can spend Valentine’s Day together. I’ll work up something nice for you,” I was stammering.

“I’d love that. See you then.”

OH MY GOSH IT ACTUALLY WORKED.

February 14 is just any other day to a guy. But we understand the expectation set by the ladies, so we try to live up to those standards, but often fall flat on our face. I know that she went home and is already preparing herself, so I need to get going before she does.

She will be expecting to go somewhere, so I pull a fast one and make her something at home, and see how she likes a man in an apron.

A quick trip to the grocery store results in meat, potatoes, corn, and to top it all off, conversation hearts. Ugh, 50 bucks down the tubes. She better like this. You don’t go all out for just any girl. Just one more stop to make. I need to find a just-in-case-I-invitea-girl-over-for-Valentine’s-Day-Movie.

Scanning the five dollar movie bin, I dig halfway down before finding the quintessential classic: The Notebook. As I walk toward the cashier, something in the corner of my eye distracts me.

Contraception.

This gets my imagination up and running. I grew up with the phrase, “Always be prepared.” So I grabbed one. Better safe than sorry.

Realizing I wasted too much time at the store, I break every road law between point A and B. I attempt to get the grill going for the steaks, and after an hour of kicking and cussing, the fire was lit and the steaks were burning.

I have to get the mashed potatoes going, but I have no idea how to do it. After an unexpected 30 minute conversation with grandma on the perfection of potato mashing, I had that raring to go. I couldn’t help but panic about the steak. Does she like hers pink, no pink, burned, still squirming? I went on the safe side, no sense in scaring the date out of the house because of a cow.

The doorbell rang and I panicked. It’s seven already?!?! I spent so much time on the meal I didn’t even change. My lucky Denver Broncos t-shirt and sweatpants. Maybe she didn’t try that hard. Then I remembered it was Valentine’s Day and she was, in fact, a woman. She’s more dolled up than a Barbie waiting for Ken.

I opened the door and couldn’t believe it. She was stunning. She wore a beautiful white dress with little hearts, her hair was curled to perfection. I thought I was staring at a magazine cover.

I told her she looked nice, and she mumbled something in return, but I couldn’t hear it. “I figured I would cook us dinner, then we could watch movies. How does that sound?” I saw THAT LOOK on her face. I quickly followed up with, “Or we could do something else.” She smiled and I invited her in. I led her to the kitchen, nervous that she already felt uncomfortable.

I pulled out all the food and I could tell she looked surprised. I hope it tastes as good as it looks. As we began to eat, I rattled my brain to ask her anything. I freaked out and asked her about school.

As we finished up, I pulled out the conversation hearts and made my move. She tried to hide it, but I saw a sparkle in her eye.

“Should we watch a movie now?” I asked.

“Sure, we could do that.”

She grabbed The Notebook, which I had hidden conveniently in my collection, so she would think I’ve had it for a while.

She sat next to me, and I froze. Do I make my move now? Go for it!

I put my arm around her and she snuggled in close.

Maybe Valentine’s Day is okay. No matter what, there will always be the lofty expectations. But just being yourself can be the difference between a fun or disastrous night. And as I sat there, holding a teary-eyed friend from school, I realized that the day is what you make it, spending an evening with a beautiful woman.

Life is good.

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The student news site of Wayne State College
A Valentine’s Date: From the Man