INLSA

Esther Lewis

LOVE is giving up your tickets to a soccer cup final match to be with your partner. It also means not sneaking off every five minutes to check your phone for updates from friends who are at the match.

That, I believe, is a sign of true love. However unrealistic.

For as long as I can remember I’ve regarded Valentine’s Day and those who celebrate it with contempt.

I maintain that while it may have started off with noble intentions, these days people are guilted into believing that size – of your wallet and gift – is all that matters.

But the easiest thing to do is be cynical about this money spinner of a day. Well, this is what I was unceremoniously accused of by my dear and oft misguided friend Ruby.

I strongly disagreed with her. In fact, it takes really hard work to be consistently cynical.

She persisted with her grand romantic notions and eventually I decided to give love a chance.

Come hell or high water, I was going to find love around me. So I started my mission on Monday.

But after a poll around the office, I realised I was going to have to look a bit further. It seems bar one, everybody here was on my page: Valentine’s Day is dumb. My colleagues were more concerned about bringing out a newspaper than anything else. Deadline first, romance later.

So on Tuesday morning I took a walk down Adderley Street where even the flower sellers appeared to have more teddy bears in mugs decorated with hearts than flowers.

I entered an eatery in St George’s Mall at 6.30am and the waitress showed me to my table for one. I had a very romantic breakfast by myself, and just sat back and watched as the city came alive.

It seems Capetonians were determined to make a red blot in the city visible from space, with their V-Day attire.

There was an elderly couple in matching red and white. The man had a walking stick, and the woman held his free hand, walking at his pace.

I’ll admit, albeit grudgingly, that scene was kind of sweet. Heartwarming, even.

Trying to keep an open mind, I looked out for other moments. I lost patience after five minutes. I had a deadline to get through.

At work it was business as usual. Funny how people actually manage to get work done in spite of Valentine’s Day.

When I took the train home, I noticed school kids with plastic flowers and cards. When I was in primary school, an entire art class was dedicated to making Valentine’s cards. During interval the cards would be discreetly slipped into chair bags. Needless to say, mine was not exactly overflowing like those of the more popular girls and boys.

Back then, I thought popularity and boys were overrated anyway. But I could always count on my friends to slip at least one into my chair bag.

Seeing adults getting cheesy for one day of the year sometimes is a sight to behold.

If ever you thought people showing up for work in red and white was lame, the real spectacle unfolded in the evening.

Think of my Aunty Sharon in a skin-tight red dress, paired with red shoes. She had even dyed her hair red and was off to a singles’ dance.

She said not to mention this to Creepy Uncle Lionel, as he may turn up at the dance and embarrass her. Catching wind of the “opportunity” anyway, Creepy Uncle Lionel was hot on her heels. I swear that man has a desperate singles radar.

Once that was over, I retreated into the sanity of my home.

You will all be happy to know that I did have some male company after all.

The said man came over to fix my door that had been bothering me for the past six weeks. If you’ve ever been plagued by a rattling door, you would know the gesture was worth more than 10 bunches of roses.

I eventually tried to explain to Ruby that I had nothing against love. I just had different ideas when it came to the expression thereof.

Love is when he goes with you – accompanied by a group of your girlfriends – to see a girly movie at the cinema.

Love is when you’re feeling and acting like a miserable monster because it’s that time of the month, but he runs your bath, prepares a water bottle and rubs your back.

Like I said earlier, love is giving up soccer night for a girl.

But I guess the little teddy bear who now lives in my bag is not a bad gesture either.