The local drugstore aisles are brimming with oodles of brightly colored cuteness, which means either Valentine’s Day is near or they’re finally liquidating leftover Anime-girl Halloween costumes.
Either way it’s a heart-shaped quagmire that’s sure to end in tears for everybody, but especially the guy who brings home an Anime-girl costume.
I’m of that generation that whenever someone mentions a “heart-shaped box,” I cannot help but think of the Nirvana tune. According to Kurt Cobain biographer Charles Cross, the song is a sort of valentine in itself, at least when one regards the lyric, “I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black.”
This, Cross observed, “has to be the most convoluted route any songwriter undertook in pop history to say ‘I love you.’” But there it is. Somebody once loved Courtney Love, which means there’s hope for everyone – even if you’re single in Sonoma.
By some estimates, there are about seven active singles presently in Sonoma Valley. This is actually a lot for what is essentially a wine-soaked retirement community for rich people (at least on the east side. On the west side – wait, there’s a west side? Yeah, it’s not in the brochure). The point is, it’s slim pickins for singles, unless you’re looking for an affair to remember – by yourself with a bottle of white wine, fancy bath salts and the eerie feeling his wife knew all along. And that goes double for you single ladies.
Even if all the Sonoma singletons partnered up together, due to their odd number, someone is going to have to share. Again. Most of the single women I know say they don’t date in Sonoma. Most of the single men I know don’t know how to get out of Sonoma. Suffice it to say, they’ll never connect. Besides, they all know each other already and by “know” I mean, “No,” they’re never doing that again.
I’m one of those idiots who managed to have his first date with his then-future-wife on Valentine’s Day. Consequently, every February comes front-loaded with expectations for our “anniversary,” which inevitably leads to complicated questions about when our relationship “officially” began. This is why we have weddings – so there’s one day we can all agree our journeys toward happily every-after kicked off. With witnesses. All of whom we bought an underwhelming but overpriced dinner. Don’t you remember? No, apparently nobody remembers their own wedding day, which is probably why it’s so easy to forget one’s anniversary.
I haven’t forgotten ours yet but someday, deep into my elderly future, I might. At that point, I fully expect that the preceding 50-or-whatever years of successfully-remembered anniversaries will instantly evaporate and I’ll be the bad guy, sifting pills in my wrinkled hands, hoping I don’t confuse the Aricept and the Viagra and forget the good time I won’t be having.
Before one ponders the inevitability of forgetting anniversaries, one must first date. Let’s assess your level of romantic readiness. Here’s a little test.
1. Complete this sentence: “Life is like a box of ________, you never know what you’re gonna get.” Is it, A) chocolates, or B) condoms?
2. According to a recent AnswerLab study, men spend as much as 65 percent more time than women looking at online dating profile photos. Is this because A) Men can’t read, or B) Women spend as much as 65 percent more time posing, Photoshopping and otherwise perfecting their profile photos so men look at them longer?
3. If a date invites you back to their place and it happens to be a hotel, they are probably, A) married, B) a tourist, or C) both.
If you answered these questions, no matter your response, you’re ready to date in Sonoma. Or, more specifically, you’re desperate. I know this because you filled out a romantic survey in a newspaper. And you’re in Sonoma. This doesn’t mean there isn’t hope for love in your future.
Until then, put on your Anime-girl costume and crank up the Nirvana and someone will eventually come knocking at your door – the police.
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