1991: Smartest. Valentine’s Day. Ever.

Living through Bush the First’s Recession as an underemployed college graduate had become routine by the time this holiday rolled around. I have fond memories of these days despite the horrific Milwaukee Winter: hours spent listening to my music collection (puny compared to today), enjoying TV at Jose or Carrie’s apartment and staying up until 3 AM reading paperbacks with the BBC World Service as background “noise.”

The last activity was the best. After my shift at the Milwaukee Sentinel ended at midnight, I’d bundle up for the freezing 10-block, uphill trek home. Sometimes I’d catch the bus along Wisconsin Avenue or just hoof it along Wells. As soon as I was in my awesome studio apartment, the kettle would be started for tea, the stereo was tuned in to WUWM and I was nose deep in some book I had put off for years: Ringworld, The Handmaid’s Tale, Declarations of Independence, 1984 and The Mote in God’s Eye readily come to mind. I may have been financially poor but I was having a great time.

At other times not having much money could be a bitch, especially when it involved my girlfriend. There were days Carrie was an unsympathetic nuisance over the issue. Believe me, I wish I had a decent-paying job so we could go out to dinner, see a first-run movie and hit the bars/clubs. Her insistence made it worse. Never mind that she was employed, I was expected to pony up for both our social lives. One Saturday night she grudgingly paid the tab on a couple pitchers of beer at Landmark Lanes just to break the monotony; sitting around her place on my only guaranteed evening off was starting to bore her.

However, I knew Valentine’s Day was important. If I screwed that up, there would be numerous unpleasant days to follow with Carrie. So I made sure I bought several roses in advance at the floral shop in Grand Avenue Mall and didn’t give it much thought beyond how many comic books it cost me.

Come February 14 I was vindicated beyond my expectations! There was a line half-way up the block thanks to all those procrastinators. When I showed my receipt, I was allowed to cut ahead and boy did I get a dozen stinkeyes from the crowd as I left. Planning paid off yet I couldn’t help feeling a tad smug.

The roses went over successfully, Carrie remained my girlfriend without fighting for another several weeks. I just took the preparedness lesson to heart when it came to this Hallmark-induced bullshit holiday.

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