Ah, Valentine’s Day. The day when lovebirds give their special someone something special. The day when if those aforementioned lovebirds can’t think of something special, they opt for a night on the town … dinner reservations at that hard to get into spot, show tickets, flowers, smiles, and if all goes right a little hanky panky at the night’s end. Of course we all know, it doesn’t all go right, all of the time.
Years ago I’d been dating this guy for quite some time when February rolled around and I didn’t just think, I KNEW, he was going to propose on the 14th. He was a die-hard romantic — me, not so much, but hey, I was ready to give it my best heart-felt, gushing response (of course I was vacillating on whether that response was going to be a yes or a no, but that’s beside the point). Anyway, when the big day finally hit the calendar, you know what I got? No proposal. No ring of any kind. No jewelry, no show tickets, no something special at all … no, I got a curling iron. Yep. The kind you plug into a wall and wrap your hair around.
Needless to say, the romance — if there was any — stopped shortly thereafter and me and my curling iron went on our merry way. Funny thing is, I know he meant well … I mean it was a good one. It got hot in under 30 seconds! Of course I have naturally curly hair so although he meant well, it most definitely wasn’t received well. And there you have it. My sad but true, funny (or not so funny) relationship disaster story. Thank you, Daily Prompt – Third rate romance … indeed.