Please note: this story was written years ago in a fit of rage and pure valentine envy madness.
Okay - first off I would like to mention my most gorgeous girlfriend, her name is Valentina. She's blond, very pretty, great body, well educated, smart, professional, well travelled, from a good family - etc etc AND SINGLE. The girl is named after St Valentine's for FFing sake!! What chances have the rest of us got?
Aaaaanyway, here it goes – I was at work last night until 11ish and then again this morning at 7am. By about 9am I realized hey waaaait a minute, it's freakin valentine's day and I am madly working like an ant! So Michelle (girl from work) and I decided, well, no one's gonna give us a bunch of red roses or one of em long stemmed ones– so we decided to take a trek down to David Jones and buy each other some flowers (pathetic with a capital P) - NOT because we loooove flowers, not because we luurrve the spirit Valentine's Day - BUT because (of our vanity) we want to emerge from our building at the end of the day flippantly holding a bunch of red roses, faces masked with a slight air of indifference yet announcing to the world that yes, we are gorgeous women of this day and age and yes, we deserve a gargantuan bunch of roses on valentine's day.
Lunch hour rapidly mutated (as it does on a daily basis) into a manic 15 minute in between chomping a half masticated cow, juggling the phones and a full blown warfare with ye lord of all that is painful - a blank excel document.
Tick tock tick tock - It's 6:30 pm and both of us are trekking down towards the office exit via kitchen (as we do) and I stopped in mid step – OMG – we don't have our freakin roses!!!!! I CANT take another step!!! I refuse to leave this building completely and utterly ROSELESS!!! How can I make my classy exit outside PWC – indifferently waving my bunch of reds – pointing at it and winking at anyone who would care to look – nodding and smiling as the Mother Queen would in her tiara. Yes, yes.. I am worth it. Look at my red, my darling minions, stare at it and weep. Coz it's coming home with moi – ner ner ner…. STOP ! IM ROSELESS!!!! the building doors however are now utterly shut and will not budge despite tears of blood flowing quite freely.
Another friend, Marie rings to ask me if I wanted to go watch a movie with her tonight – OF COURSE NOT! I'd rather be staked in the middle of Federation Square and shot – ala firing squad rather than be seen watching a movie with a girlfriend on VALENTINE'S NIGHT!!! Que Horror!! Que Barbaridaaad!!
We are now walking down towards the train station and I've decided if I'm not getting any reds everyone else who has will suffer for it. I shall torment every single soul carrying a bunch of anything remotely close to the dreaded reds!!! I pointed at a dodgy Indian guy by the corner of our bldg with a bunch of red roses, I followed and mimicked an albino with a single long stemmed rose skipping like that rabbit in alice in wonderland (hey! Where are you going? Give em to me!!).
The torment goes on..... but hey, i'm still laughing! St Valentine be damned!
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