Monday Manners: Sensitivity Training

I'm going to come out and say it: I hate Valentine's Day. And no, it's not because I'm historically single when it rolls around. I'm not single now, and I'm still against the holiday.

Blame it on my hatred of chocolate. Blame it on my preference for yellow roses over red. But most of all, blame it on my high school. Or, more specifically, blame it on many of the girls I went to high school with.

Every year on February 14 (unless the holiday fell on a weekend, in which case it was almost always observed the Friday before), the girls with boyfriends would dress to the nines: their shortest allowed-at-school skirts, usually in black, paired with revealing tops in red or pink. They wouldn't wear jackets, so that moving between classes (we had buildings, not halls), their holiday ensembles could be seen. El Paso, Texas, doesn't get especially cold during the winter, but in February, you still need a jacket if you're wearing a miniskirt and a halter top. In first period, these girls would receive flowers and candy and stuffed animals, delivered directly to their classrooms at the behest of their boyfriends, and much to the dismay of teachers. These gifts would not be stored in lockers or cars, but rather would be carried from class-to-class, even after lunchtime (when the girls would go on mini-dates with their boyfriends – we had off-campus lunch). The guys with girlfriends would brag to each other about what gifts they bought and how much they spent, while the girls with boyfriends would congregate between classes to compare their gifts, squealing with delight and generally pissing off all the single girls.

Much of adult life still manages to resemble high school, but never more so than on Valentine's Day. Sure, you don't see women in suits walking through City Hall with teddy bears the size of Great Danes, but for weeks leading up to the holiday, you'll hear strains of: "What are you doing for Valentine's Day?" in food courts and retail stores across the city. The day of, women will still sometimes get dressed up in anticipation of seeing their sweethearts before the day is out. Men will boast to each other about their dinner plans and jewelry purchases. So blissfully lost in their happiness are these folks that they forget: not everyone in the world is coupled off.

If you're one of those people who puts great stake in Valentine's Day, blissfully content in your own relationship and more than willing to celebrate it because Hallmark tells you to, that's fine. Good for you. Really.

But bear in mind that there are lonely, single people out there who see Valentine's Day as nothing more than a painful reminder that they don't have people with whom to celebrate it. You probably know a few of them. You may once have been one of them. Talking about Valentine's Day with your coupled friends, or even with your single friends who don't give a rat's ass about Valentine's Day, is all well and good – but when talking to (or around) the recently-single, the always-single, and the bitterly-single, you might want to dial your pink and red glee back a notch or ten. Good manners means being courteous to those around you, especially when things can become a game of have versus have-not.

You wouldn't dangle a big steak in front of your Lent-observing friend on a Friday, would you? This is pretty much the same thing. Don't ask your single friends what their plans for Valentine's Day are when you know good and well they don't have any, and don't gush about yours. Don't flaunt your new necklace in front of your recently-divorced boss or put the dozen red roses you received on your officemate's side of the room. If someone asks you how you're celebrating, that's one thing – but if nobody asks, that means they don't want to hear about it, so don't launch into a discussion of your big plans or the elaborate gifts you received without provocation. You're in a relationship the other 364 (well, in this year's case, 365) days of the year – so why make a big deal of it on Valentine's Day, anyway?

Image Credit: Flickr user sister72