[I read this last night at Michael Ian Black’s fantastic show which you should get tickets to unless you’re a weird person uninterested in having a nice time.]
What is that I smell? Is it a gas leak? Is it ammonia and bleach? No. It’s Romance and also it’s Love in the Air.
[INSERT A PHOTO OF A HEART HERE AND REMEMBER TO DELETE THIS PART IN THE BRACKETS]
Valentine’s Day is “nigh” and you know what that means – close or near. Basically it means that Valentine’s Day is close and you know what that means: it means we’re all looking at incoming Amazon packages a little longer than usual, realizing they aren’t a gift, and then immediately throwing them away even though they might contain a new water filter or your husband’s replacement inhaler.
This year, things are different. It’s a pandemic, so you and your partner can’t go to a restaurant to be on your phones in front of each other in public and get bullied by your server, Halston, into ordering cheesecake even though you’re full. We’re full, Halston! You can’t romantically parallel park before your reservation. You can’t get out of the car, and do the sexy dance of, “You’re too far from the curb. Okay now you’re good.” And worst of all, you can’t get down on one knee in a dimly lit, romantic room, with soft piano music playing in the background, while your partner’s eyes well up with tears and you open a little thing of gas-x you remembered to bring.
Here are some ways that you can do a DIY Valentine’s Day with all the sensual intrigue of every other year, but from the safety of your own home!
Start off the day with a sexy surprise. If you wake up earlier than your loved one, hide under the bed. Once your partner has woken up and gotten into the shower, sneak up behind him, and say, “SURPRISE! It’s Valentine’s Day.” If he says he knows, then say, “Great, we’re on the same page.”
A movie. Sure, this seems like something you might do on any old day, but tonight is going to be different because you’re not just gonna watch any random Meryl Streep and Dustin Hoffman divorce movie. You’re gonna watch something romantic! You’re going to watch every time animals mate underwater in the series, Planet Earth. Every fish that bones you’re going to look at and, together, with the soundtrack of David Attenborough’s voice describing the fish having sex with each other, you will go, “aww.”
Have a fight! Nothing brings two people closer together than duking it out, emotionally. If this is a new relationship, I recommend fighting like you’ve been together for years, and your son Jared has come back from college and he’s acting out, and it’s because your partner coddles him and he thinks he can just treat us like shit. If you’re in a long term relationship, or better yet, married for 35 years, I recommend a “What are we?” style fight.
Do a table read of the play Frost/Nixon. Arguably the most sexually tense performance by two entities, the Frost/Nixon interviews left us with one of America’s most beloved couples, Frost and Nixon! Make like these two crazy lovebirds and whisper all sorts of sweet nothings about secret tapes, China, and chief of staff H.R. Haldeman.
Suddenly accuse the other of adultery. Okay, hear me out on this one. If you are looking to really spice up the night, put your fork down in the middle of dinner, stare at a light until your eyes start to water, and simply ask in a low voice, “What’s her name?” This might lead beautifully back to the fight suggestion. Now we have an exciting night ahead of us.
Play a game like “Truth or Dare”. Dare each other to kiss. Ask your partner to tell the truth about his waning attraction to you. Dare each other to get loaded guns delivered and hold them up at each other, saying, “I’ll do it. I don’t fucking care. I’ll do it.”
Quiz each other on the other’s mail. The ultimate dating game where you prove just how well you know each other! Go through each other’s mail and quiz each other on everything from social security numbers, to water bills, to final notices from the IRS.
You don’t have to schedule anything. Because we all die alone, you can take great comfort in knowing that you planning nothing for the day is just foreshadowing the inevitable: that very last moment you take a breath, your last thought will not be that of your loved ones throughout your life, but maybe like a picture of a duck that has Richard Gere’s head? Who knows what your dementia will conjure up at the very end? And Greta, your chic-named nurse, will go tell your family that you went peacefully and with a smile on your face, and that’s what your grandchildren will go home believing and maybe one of your grandkids develops a weird crush on Greta, so you know one of them is probably jacking off in the 24 hours after your death, punctuating your existence with the same weird mix of horny and sad that plagued your last 70 Valentine’s Days.
Have a picnic!
I tried all of them, and they work, though 8 got a little bleak there ngl