Love Sucks
But what sucks even more is having it rubbed in your face as you walk through the aisles at the local market, looking for your favorite single-pack frozen dinner. Love-struck fools lingering too long in the wine aisles block you from the sale on 6-packs; balloons and teddy bears litter the sterile landscape you once found comfort in; stupid heart-shaped boxes are filled with what you secretly hope to be rotten chocolates. It all just seems unfair.
Singles indubitably make up a huge percentage of San Diego, if not the world. Where is our “day”? Why are we not officially recognized by the rest of the world until we have a ring on our finger, or constantly refer to ourselves as a “We”? We singles don’t bicker about the dishes, toothpaste or toilet seats while our friends sit uncomfortably across the table sipping their beers. It is like another rite of passage. But what singles do do (yup, I said "do do"), on a greater scale than couples is contribute to our city. Think about it. I venture to say that single people may be one of the larger stimulus packages for local economies. We definitely keep the nightlife and alcohol industries in business. We pile into restaurants, theaters, clothing stores and auto dealerships on a never-ending quest to create the perfect date. We frequent gyms, hair, nail, waxing, botox and tanning salons in an effort impress — all the while spending our hard-earned paycheck on the local economy — including paying more in rent. We even pay more to the federal government than married people — just ask your accountant come tax day.
So I say it again: Where is our “day”? Seems like our relentless fiscal contributions may be more important in our current world than creating something else to put in a diaper.
I often hear Valentine's Day referred to as a “Hallmark Holiday” — a holiday created by the capitalistic companies trying to guilt the population into buying stuff they don’t need. This may be true, but I think their goal is actually to get the ex-singles to spend like they were single again (more than the other way around), if only for one day.
What's worse is that it still works on us solo-flyers. They train us in elementary school, with Sweet Tarts and Ninja Turtle Valentine's Day cards, that even if we don’t have someone special in mind, we should never stop trying to buy stuff for others, just in case they might buy us something back. Now we have anti-Valentine's Day parties, galas and balls, where we spend just as much, if not more, dough than our coupled counterparts on what — to us — is really just another Sunday.
by Noah Wolcott
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