A couple of years back, a friend of mine received a flower from her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. But it wasn’t just a flower, it was a red rose. I imagined the chick was allergic to roses or maybe hated the colour red because the manner in which she threw the flower back at him said many things – and appreciation wasn’t one of them.After the poor lad picked his dusty rose off the floor, he begged to know why she had behaved that way. In as vicious a manner as before, she said and I quote, "How dare you give me one flower? Who does that?”  Chicks are mean - he was just trying to be romantic; he didn’t know one flower would cause an uprising.She told him to take his rose to some love sick teenager and come back when he was ready to buy her a large bouquet of flowers like a real man. I secretly rejoiced as my usually dull day had just turned into a girl’s night out. I can’t stress enough just how much Valentine’s Day bothers me. Maybe it is the fact that on this day, for as long as I can remember, I find myself manless! My past relationships have always conveniently ended before this – how can I put this nicely – retarded day, killing any chances of gloating to my friends about flowers and candy and candle lit dinners and all that lovey dovey baloney!Sometimes, I have this sneaky suspicion that men are the biggest lovers of Valentine’s Day. For example, it is the one day when they shamelessly convince their women they actually give a damn after acting like bonafide boors all year – well, some men at least!  What’s one day in a year to show some love right?I believe in love all year. Sure – when my friends are shoving teddy bears the size of Nyabugogo and flower bouquets large enough to start a little florist shop in my face, I curse my lonely existence and men in general. It would be nice to have flowers delivered to my door once in a while and not just house bills. When are those ever going to come once a year?Last week I was in Nakumatt doing what I do best, looking at things and placing them neatly back on the shelf after admiring them. I spotted a lot of red around the place and for my smitten peeps out there, their Valentine’s Day gift section. A lot of things went through my mind…how bored I was with all the Val’s Day hype, how tacky some of the gifts looked, how hard I’d laugh if anyone I knew dared to wear red and black on that day and for a fraction of a section, how tempted I was to buy myself one of the baskets!My thoughts were interrupted when an attendant pointed out what he thought would be the best gift for my man. Two questions popped in my mind; was there an invisible man that only he could see attached to my hip or (and I was praying for this one) did he find me too attractive to not have a man? I refrained from asking him that last question lest he crushed the naughty little fantasy going on my head– he was kind of cute.So, on Valentine’s Day, I do what I do best and wish other people a happy Valentine’s Day. It would be even happier if you could all just keep the ‘mushy’ stuff for the privacy of your homes though. Okay? Great.