This day always reminds me of an episode many, many years ago, when I was in the first year of a stormy relationship with someone who has become my friend. M.-?. was the product of a mother from Brittany, and a Catholic-Syrian father who also happened to be a sexologist. These folks insisted that, were I to sleep over at their place, I'd better damn well sleep in the same bed as their daughter, or else they would be rather insulted. Who was I to argue?
Anyhow, M.-?. used to rail against the commercialisation of Valentine's, and she would exclaim that we were all suckers to even think about that day, and worse still if anyone were to spend money on it. Okay, I thought, I'll make sure to never buy her flowers or anything on that day. So, that V. night, coming home from a class, I happened to see an old friend, H., from Saint John, NB. Conversation ensues, I invite H over for supper and to catch up on old times. Around 10 that night, the phone rings; M.-?.'s on the line.
Me: Hi! How are you!
M.-?.: ...
Me: Hello? You there?
M.-?.: ....
Me: Okay, what did I do wrong this time?
M.-?.: What did you do tonight?
Me: Well, I met H., she came over for supper, yadda yadda.
M.-?.: You didn't think of calling me?
Me: What, call you for Valentine's day?
M.-?.: Yes.
Me: But you think it's stupid. You would have been angry at me had I called.
M.-?.: That's right.
Me: So, you're angry at me that I didn't call.
M.-?.: That's right.
Me: So, one way or another, you were going to be angry at me, correct?
M.-?.: That's right.
Laughter all around. I just couldn't win.
posted by Michel @ 2:41 PM
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