I am 100-percent positive and nothing can convince me otherwise: Valentine’s Day was started by a woman and so was courtship. Same as laws were made by men (and again, nothing can convince me otherwise). And risking being hated by women, I dare say it is only the women who are happy during Valentine’s Day and that men are nothing but (willing) victims of the brouhaha of the occasion.
When I was in college with a very limited allowance, in as much as I wanted to, I could not afford to celebrate on Valentine’s Day. And I will admit it now that a lady I invited to dinner chose to go with another guy, not because I wasn’t the better looking and more intelligent guy (yes, modesty aside), but because I was taking her to Quad fast food (the fad in the ‘70s) and the other classmate took her to the Pen lobby. Since then, I became cynical about taking a lady to dinner on Valentine’s Day.
Especially here in the Philippines, where all women are hopeless romantics and the men are suckers. We certainly hold the world record for the longest Christmas and another “unofficial” longest Valentine’s Day celebration in the world! My cousin operates an upscale hotel and restaurant in our city and says that his restaurant is booked solid for dinner starting on the 13th to the 15th of February of every year, and for three different reservation times at that! (6 p.m., 8 p.m. and 10 p.m.). He says it is good business and he cannot complain. He intimates that he has a regular group of male paramours (names withheld) who would book for the three consecutive nights — but each time with a different partner: the girlfriend on the 13th, the wife (and the kids) on the 14th, and Girlfriend No. 2 on the 15th. His staff are so well briefed that they would not dare ask questions. And anything — as in anything that is red and shaped like a heart — will sell.
Did you know that that during Valentine’s Day, every couple orders red wine and that to push the white wine, they are priced much lower? But still the men will order the expensive yet so-so red wine because the lady will regard him as a cheapskate if he orders a white wine. Where did all this nonsense come from?
Other than my unfortunate experience in college that must have dented my ego, I have (valid) reasons why I detest Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to be stuck in traffic for hours and then end up eating in a restaurant where the food is hurriedly prepared and the staff all running around like headless chickens and the wines are priced double. And here is to me the worst part: a dozen roses cost just as much as a can of Beluga caviar. Call me a stingy idiot but I would certainly would rather spend my money on caviar! Maybe that is why I was a bachelor for so long (having married at 42), I was secretly looking for someone who views this dreadful day just like I do. That is not easy, if you want a Filipina wife.
When I was still courting my future darleng wife, my friends’ first advice was the conventional path of sending flowers, advice I did not heed, being the unconventional type. Fortunately for me, as I found out soon enough, she considers receiving fresh flowers a waste of money. She is more stingy than me. She’d rather receive something edible and sweet or extremely salty (like tuyo or dried fish). To this day, I credit my mother and sister Doren’s macadamia sans rival.
One of the “prenuptial” conditions I demanded from my darleng was not to expect me to take her out on Valentine’s Day. I told her I can bring her out the other 364 days of the year, just not on that dreadful, overrated, over-exploited, over-commercialized (as in sobrang over talaga!) night. I just can’t make myself a victim of it. But as our elders say, lahat tayo may katapat. Our first Valentine’s Day, we spent three hours in a couple’s room at a luxurious spa. I fell asleep most of the time so that was good and easy for me. But little did I know that if I could set my ground rules, Mary Ann could do it better and she certainly beat me to it.
On our first Valentine’s as a married couple, she gleefully agreed to stay home and accepted my offer to cook for her. “On the condition that you cook and dine in your birthday suit,” she commanded. (Of course she had a much more graphic term than birthday suit.) Why? She said so I could feel the pain of great inconvenience while she gets what she wants, which in her royal opinion is the true meaning of Valentine’s Day.
In short the women are not after the dinner and the trimmings but the idea of us men suffering for their ego! Well, we are still married and very happily so 12 years later and yes, your guess is right: she got her way that year and I must admit all the years after.
What did I dutifully and lovingly cook that evening? Nothing fancy really, but I put chocolate and chili peppers in almost every dish from the succulent oysters to her all-time faves — anchovies, Porterhouse steak and macadamia sans rival. She loves chocolates and hot food and both are known aphrodisiacs (as if you did not know that). It always works wonders, I swear. How did the evening end? Let me just say I had my turn in the bedroom where we had a reversal of roles. That much I can say.
A nice story I would like to share with you my romantic readers today. One morning, I was buying kilos of cilantro (wunsoy) from our suki farmer and our conversation went like this:
“Sir, mahilig ka pala dian,” he said with a naughty grin. “Ah, oo. At gustung gusto din ng asawa ko,” I said. This time his grin became bigger and his face lit like I had won the lotto. “Edi sir lagi kayong Masaya, gabi gabi, sir?” he added. When he saw the puzzled look on my face, he took me aside and whispered, “Sir, papakin mu yan at pagkatapos uminom ka ng Hilbees. At sir, tatayo sigurado. Daig pa ang Viagra, ser.” “Anong Hilbees? I asked. “E di yung hinegra,” he said. I laughed out loud: he meant Gilbeys! I haven’t tried his unsolicited medical advice but I have certainly jot down his formula in my notebook, titled “When I turn 65.”