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Techniques to Avoid Valentine’s (Atlanta, Georgia) So Buckhead was a mad house. Traffic was horrendous. The line of cars in the queue for valet into the W Buckhead stretched out to Peachtree Road. And one by one I saw the couples emerge from SUVs, red sports cars, and some were more mature couples pulling themselves out of station wagons with kid’s toys flooding their back windows. The couples themselves were a mixture of smiling, some clutching one another, others distant and quiet. The valet ran up to my car when it was my turn. “Checking in?” he asked. “Yes.” “Is it just you, sir?” he asked as we switched – and I stood and he took my drivers seat. “Yes.” And I thought about making a joke about being alone but then I thought to myself that maybe the joke would be on me. The lines at the check-in counter were large as well. Everyone came equipped with small bags – a couple of articles to just spend a single romantic night together. I was the only one who stood alone. A lady with a slight Russian accent with a name tag reading Alexandra ushered me forward. “You by yourself, Mister Jackson?” “Yes.” And not that hearing it twice already, I repeated it aloud, “Yep, all alone.” She smiled and winked. “Well, I don’t think you will have a problem finding somebody to keep your warm for Valentine’s Night.” I let out a breath. “Well, I don’t think Saint Valentine had that in mind when he created this holiday for the Hallmark Card company.” She smiled a little.

“It would be renamed as Hook Up Night or One Night Day where everybody feels guilty and disgusting the next day. And the patron saint would be Ron Jeremy.” She laughed hard.

So I was on my third mojito and Jamie was on her second gin and tonic. Because Jamie and I had not made any formal plans because we were both alone on Valentine’s Day – we decided to make Valentine’s opposite night. So we decided on going to the bar first, getting drunk, and then stumbling out to the restaurants later to see if we could sneak into a place. This was our first technique to avoid Valentine’s. A new waitress came up to us who was Asian. “Would you like another drink?” she asked. “God you make me homesick,” I said without thinking. “Excuse me? I make you sick?” she said smiling a bit weird. “No,” and I swallowed hard knowing I hadn’t thought before I spoke. “Funny now surrounded by all these people that look like me I feel out of place. But when come near me, I feel like I am back in Hong Kong.” “Well, you might want to revisit your home a little more. I am Korean.” She laughed. “Sorry.” I blushed. “Okay, I will take another mojitio. It is Valentine’s Day.” “Valentine’s night.” Jamie corrected. And we watched the couples starting to enter the Whiskey Blue bar. Everyone was dressed to kill. Jamie and I were dressed in jeans. “Look at them.” I said. “They look like limp fish.” “Romantic are we?” she said sipping on her cup. “This is the not the same guy I knew in Pine Lake, Georgia.” “Well you are definitely not the same girl I remember.” And I sucked on a piece of ice and spit it back in the glass. “Hey, I want to tell you. I am very, very proud of you. And I am sorry what I told you when you started law school.” She giggled. “Yes, you are were upset about me being a lawyer. It had something to do with your dad being framed for arson, right?” “Wow. You remembered?”

“Well you told me the story. The store owner caught your father’s Piggly Wiggly on fire and then blamed him for it. And then the defendant’s lawyer came to your father to ask some questions. And then all the answers he gave were used him in the trial.” I nodded. “Yes. Seeing your father on trial in a court case – made a huge impact on me at 15 years old. I guess it gave me a bad taste of what a lawyer is and what they can do. Especially when I learned that lawyer motto: truth is based on the angle from which you look at it.” “But it’s true. All truth has multiple sides.” “Look at you now. You are an incredibly beautiful, successful lawyer.” “If I didn’t know you better, I would think you were hitting on me.” “No. Remember you sucked my thumb that one time. That was all the sexual activity I needed from you.” She laughed so hard that everyone sitting at our outdoor couch turned. “God, you still remember that? So you can’t remember what you said to me at WBBK that upset me but you can remember that one time – I stuck your thumb in my mouth and sucked on it.” I nodded. “Yes, that was the best thumb job I ever had.” “That was the only thumb job you ever got!” Jamie exploded again in laughter. So we quieted down. And then we sat there watching the couples. “Do you think you will ever marry again?” “I want to,” she was quick to answer. “You always want someone to share your life with.” “How about kids?” “Nope. I don’t want any little shits. My nephew is enough. Kids nowdays are spoiled rotten.” I took another piece of ice and spit it out again. “Yeah, but you know, when I get really down. Or I start looking too inward about my own life, I look around and check out the kids. Something about the kids – they always make me laugh and smile. Then its all good, you know?” “Possibly.”

We sat quiet again. “Yeah, seeing these people around us, is depressing.” “Maybe we are jealous.” “Maybe.” Just then our real waitress showed up. “Sir, do you want another drink?” Without thinking I answered, “Yes.” Jamie hit me. Then she said, “You already told the other woman you wanted one too.” “Well I guess I got two more.” Our waitress looked to Jamie. “Ma’m?” “Well hell. If he is going to drink two more. I will at least drink one more.” I raised my hand. “I am sorry you have to work tonight,” I said looking our waitress in the eye. “Did you get to celebrate Valentine’s earlier?” “No. Not really. My boyfriend is working too. And besides, Valentine’s is overrated.” “Is that what he said or you said?” “Both. Love is everyday. Not a holiday.” “Very well said,” and I raised my glass. Jamie raised hers. “A toast to love everyday except today.”

We were officially drunk as it neared midnight. Whiskey Blue was packed wall to wall. So we freed up our seats and took the elevator down – and it stopped on every floor of the W Buckhead hotel letting couples in. Some looked like they had just had quickies, and some looked like they weren’t speaking. We spilled out into the hip lobby and wandered out into the cold Valentine’s night. I took Jamie’s arm and hooked it with mine. We wandered across Peachtree Street to an Italian Restaurant that I had spotted when I neared the hotel for parking. As we entered, I leaned over to Jamie. “Just follow my lead. I am going to get us a table.” I went up to the hostess.

“Excuse me, we are the Jackson party. We are a little late. We got caught up in traffic. Is our table still available?” I said with the best poker face a person with four mojitos can muster. “You said your name was Jackson?”

“Yes, party of two.” And the hostess who was obviously exhausted started typing on her screen. “I am sorry. You said the name Jackson?” “Yes.” And I tried to keep myself straight and tall. But when I would feel my head going sideways, I would grip my fingers into the hostess stand. “I am sorry,” and she looked me in the eye. “Jackson.” She paused for effect. “We have no reservation for you. But next time when you are going to try to sneak into a restaurant without a reservation, don’t talk so loud when you walk through the door telling your friend what you are going to do.” “Oh.” I said. She grabbed two menus. “Right this way.” And with that she led us into the dining area. After eating lots of pasta and a bottle of wine, Jamie and I started going down our list of regrets. Our failed marriages being the biggest. “Let me ask you, if your ex would have changed, would you have salvaged your marriage?” Jamie asked me point blank. Without thinking I answered quickly, “Most definitely. She was the smartest, funniest person I knew. And I knew she deserved to be a CEO. She deserved to be rich and famous. And that’s what broke us apart. Me always pushing her to be the woman I saw that she was. And her accepting who she thought she was.” I took a tug of my wine. “And god, she was so funny. Right? You remember her. She could make any situation hilarious. She is my inspiration for getting into standup comedy. She should be a standup comedian.” And suddenly, I felt that dark empty space that a lost marriage breaks. “How about you?” I threw the question back. She was also quick about answering. “No. I married the loss of my virginity. I married a rule I had made to myself. To marry the guy I lost my virginity to. And that rule was wrong. No salvage. It was over. Although he was a great guy. He just wasn’t the right guy.” She paused. “I mean, he just wasn’t my guy.”

“These are the techniques and lessons we have learned over time about love.” And I raised my wine glass to toast. “And these are the techniques to avoid Valentine’s.” she stated and clinked against my glass. That’s when I saw that we were the last people in the restaurant and our waiter was giving us the evil eye. I wrote in the air on an invisible piece of paper. “Bill please.” I mouthed.