Dear Kitty Winn,
I hate valentine’s day. I keep seeing fun valentiney things to do and then realize I have no plans, and even if I had a date, it wouldn’t be the kind of sincere and loving date that would be worthy of the extravagant valentiney things. When I was dating someone, I hated valentines’ day and was disgusted by all the extravagant gifts that the season demanded I give, and by the whole commercial insincerity of it all.
I know what other singles will be doing. The really cheezy corporate-owned bars in The Alley have a singles flirt-fest where there will be incredibly drunk incredibly lonely people looking to have incredibly awful guilt-wracked fear-of-dying-alone sex with strangers. The various titty bars in town will be full of incredibly drunk, incredibly lonely guys and very distant, mildly disgusted strippers who don’t quite have to think about what they’re doing since they’re coked out of their minds.
But what can a single Boston boy do this friday? I’m a human male with a pulse. Surely someone has lowered their standards enough for me!
Human? Male? That’s always been good enough for Kitty! I don’t know what’s wrong with girls these days. Or do you need a boy? You didn’t specify. If it’s boymeat on your mind, there’s always the Ramrod (it’s military gear night!), or Jacque’s.
If it’s females you’re after, I’d stake out Victoria’s Secret. Look for the girl buying sexy undies. And then talk to her less comely friend who’s been dragged along for the ride! Or you could camp out next to florists and the Godiva store, noting who peers in longingly. Because good boyfriends have already sent flowers and candy to work by now, so chances are they’re single. Finally, who says all strippers are coked out of their minds? There are plenty of nice ladies who are strippers. Of course they won’t like you if you have a negative attitude like that! Judge not lest ye be judged, Kitty always says.
Of course that’s a rotten lie. Kitty loves to judge people!
Realistically? Does it have to come to that? I’d suggest going somewhere non-date-y with a group of friends. Scorpion bowls in Chinatown can’t be beat. Scamming on friends of friends is always a good bet anyway. Or I can open up the floor to readers. Provide me with some vital statistics, and maybe we can palm you off on a lucky Vomitola fan!
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