Why You’re Going to Wish You Were My Date Next Year on Valentine’s Day


I’ve already decided that next year I’m going to totally rock out Valentine’s Day harder than anyone else.  I wrote it down in my New Year’s resolutions, and I fully plan to make good on that.  And seeing as how most of my other resolutions (I make a lot of resolutions) haven’t gone so well, this is a great time to settle the score with my overactive resolution-making self and put a point on the board.  And a score of 1 and 334 is better than zero and 335 (I said I make a lot of resolutions).

So how am I going to totally rock out Valentine’s Day harder than anyone else?  Well, I haven’t quite got that far in my planning yet.  But I’ve got a lot of ideas I’ve been jotting down on post-it notes, cocktail napkins, and on the back of Aldi receipts.  What are some of the awesome ideas I’ve got?  Well, I’m not going to ruin all the magic (or give all the guys out there my entire, completely badass, awesome, guaranteed-panty-dropping plan), but I will give all the lovely ladies out there a glimpse of the awesomeness that will be being my date for Valentine’s Day next year.

First off, I hope you have something classy in the red color family to wear, because I’ve got a sweet red suit!  I actually bought the suit like four years ago on clearance at K-Mart.  I can remember when I saw it, I thought to myself, “One day I’m going to need this sweet red suit.”  And next year on Valentine’s Day is going to be that day!  It is the classiest, most dope, red suit ever.  It’s this deep red color with black piping all around the edges.  It’s got matching red pants and a matching double-breasted red vest.  The guy working the register at K-Mart said he bought the blue version and assured me that this was the kind of suit that looked great on a hot college girl’s dorm room floor.  And for just $18 on clearance, that makes it literally the perfect suit for this epic occasion.

Now I’m sure there will be some flowers involved.  There will be a great dinner at a fancy restaurant like Cracker Barrel (seriously, who doesn’t like Cracker Barrel?  And if you don’t like Cracker Barrel then, honestly, you’re not really the right speed to be my date for Valentine’s Day).  And there might even be some romantic music if I can find my best of Hi Tek 3 cassette tape.

But one thing there will be a lot of, and you can count on this one, is chocolate!  I mean a lot of chocolate!  Don’t even think I’m bluffing either because when I say a lot of chocolate, I mean like Willy-Wonka-factory-chocolate-river a lot! I’ve been buying up chocolate at after Easter sales, after Halloween sales, and after Valentine’s Day sales for the past few years.  I had to buy a whole other refrigerator for 35 bucks off of Craigslists and run an extension cord onto my front porch to store all the chocolate I’ve been collecting.  I’ve been carrying a book bag so that when I’m anywhere there is free chocolate, (like at a doctor’s office or a kid’s birthday party) I can load that book bag up!  And that fridge on my front porch is almost full of chocolate!  It’s actually getting hard to close the door the thing is so damn full.   And ladies, the only two words you need to know are–CHOCOLATE JACUZZI!  It’s okay, I too just got a little teary-eyed/aroused/hungry just typing those two words together.

So I hope all of you, especially the ladies (you know who you are), are ready for 2.14 because it is going to be the end-all-be-all of Valentine’s Days!  Don’t you like how I wrote the date like that, 2.14, like big/action-packed/crappy movies do it.  I had to write it like that because you all need to understand just how big/action-packed/not-even-crappy I’m going to make the next Valentine’s Day.  So don’t forget–wait, why am I even saying that?  You’re not going to forget.  Not with all the advertising I’m buying on the CW.

About BatDoc

I’m a dynamic figure, often seen scaling buildings and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train and bus stations on lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention and reducing high-traffic areas. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees and write award-winning plays about pastry. I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I make meatloaf. I have been known to woo women with my sensuous and god-like electric air-guitar playing. I can pilot riding lawnmowers up severe inclines with unflagging speed and accuracy and can cook 30-Minute Brownies in 20 minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Brazil. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon River Basin from a horde of ferocious smaller-than-your-pinky-finger fire ants. When I’m bored, I build full size models of airplanes out of Popsicle sticks. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, I repair TVs and VCRs free of charge. I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Last summer, I toured Wisconsin and Minnesota with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl coat hangers at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read War and Peace, Moby Dick, and Great Expectations in one day and still had time to repaint the exterior of my house that afternoon. Though not a narc, I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I can recalibrate and repair gas lines with blinding speed and precision, and I don't require a face mask. I still find time to sleep eight hours a night; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation to Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance; I weave; I dodge; I frolic; and my bills are all paid. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a jello mold and a toaster oven. I used to breed prize-winning killer dolphins. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, performed open-heart surgery, and have spoken with Elvis. I have been to Area 51 and seen the complex. I enjoy cake and my best friends are Edmund the Penguin and Dr. Narco the Intelligent Thermos. I tied Jose Canseco in home runs last week, and I’m mere words away from completing a New York Times crossword puzzle I started on in 1988. Volumes and volumes of written works have been produced about me, but they were all lost in the fire. I am an extrovert. I’m marginally more popular with feminist than Rush Limbaugh. I don't scrape my vegetables onto my grandmother's plate when no one is looking. Hard as it may be to believe, I have never lost a pole-vaulting competition. I was nowhere near the grassy knoll on November 22, 1963. I’ve never hit a silver-medalist in the knee with a club. I wear sensible clothing, and I did not mastermind Julius Caesar's death. That was Cassius.

Posted on August 11, 2014, in A BatDoc Original, Original Series, Short Essays and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. pls care more and hide less.

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