The first person to wish me a Happy Valentine’s Day was the homeless man who, fail not, is always going hard at some half-eaten thing he dug out of the trash and asks me how “dat fine ass is doin’ this morning”. The man is persistent and consistent, kudos.
I came home to a used condom woven through the iron bars of my front door.
People, I give you beyond reasonable doubt that romance truly has no monetary value.
So, I see your roses and heart-shaped box of chocolates and raise you the daily reminders of how painfully single I am.
Ladies and gentleman, I am back.