How was your Hallmark Holiday?

Some people feel like they have to buy their love a bunch of branded, useless garbage on Valentine’s Day…. or else the axe of raging emotion will fall on their head. So they bombard the Wal-Marts, Targets and Krogers of the city and eagerly pay 300% mark-up on flowers. (Obvious hint o’ the week: Wait a few days after Valentine’s Day to buy flowers. They’re back to regular price and you may even get them cheaper if retailers are trying to unload them before they turn to potpourri)

I’ve never bought-in to the event, rather, I revel in the people watching. This was the first year in many that I couldn’t witness this from behind the pharmacy counter; taking a break from dispensing Viagra to smirk.

Even when I was in a relationship, neither of us made a big deal of the holiday. J got me a card and a new clock radio I had mentioned wanting; I took her to a show at Smith’s Olde Bar she wanted to see. Besides, we had just gone on a weekend getaway to Destin, FL. My idea of romance as always been the little thoughtful things you do for someone, which is best used sparingly to enhance the quality of your relationship. Some people don’t get that concept.

So what did RA do last night? I happen to have a long-time friend who’s birthday just happens to share the same date, so several of us met at TAP on P’tree St. for some unfulfilled advertised V-Day drink specials. Apparently the drink specials were reserved for people who had Valentine’s reservations upstairs. The lowly single folk had to drown their sorrows downstairs, paying full price and listening to a musician sing sad rock songs. I anticipated “Heart Shaped Box” or “Every Rose…”

Regardless of the lies, we had a good time. TAP is billed as Atlanta’s first “gastropub,” a term which I am unfamiliar. I just assumed the fare would give me indigestion. Gastropub is a British fad where a pub serves higher-quality food than your typical dive. I ate a tasty cheeseburger, served on a toasted English muffin (a first!) with a shooter-sized Wendy’s Frosty. Maybe the chef has heard that dipping your crappy Wendy’s fries in Frosty makes them edible. I thought it was chipotle mayo from a distance.

Never the type to end a night early, Phil invited us to tag along to the EARL to see the Liars. I hadn’t heard of them, but I know Phil has excellent taste in music. We all drove separately but the show was sold out by the time we got there. So Phil split his time between seeing the band and drinking beer with us at the bar. The best part of drinking beer in East Atlanta is the chance to sit and watch people. They never disappoint.

While taking a leak in the bathroom before driving home, I looked above the mirror and saw this:

And I smiled….