Valentine's Date Disasters

Is it too predictable that I am diabetic and I love Valentine's Day?

Well, okay, they don't really qualify as disasters, but Steve and I have had a few dud Valentine's dates.

Like most couples, we've debated how big a deal to make out of this artificial celebration of romantic love. At least once, we've decided to do nothing, only to find me feeling let-down. On the whole, I choose to make it festive.

One year we had decided not to do anything special, not even go out to dinner, but then about a week before the big date, I changed my mind. By then, of course, our favourite places were all booked up. But there was one restaurant on our way home from work that we'd always been curious about. They could seat us! Yay! [That should have been a warning.]

People were crammed in the vestibule waiting to be seated, servers were scrambling around with platters of drinks and food. The lighting was Home-Depot fluorescent, the flowers were plastic, and the tables were a step up from diner tables, but not a big step.

"We're together, and that's what matters," I chirped. [Hit me with a stick.]

"Yup. That's what this is about," Steve chimed in. [These may not be his actual words.]

I don't remember the meal, and that's probably a good thing, though I do have a flashback of one of those token "salads" that consist of half a cup of iceberg lettuce, two tomato wedges and a slice of cucumber.

We never went back.

The following year, we learned from our mistake and booked early. In January, I called Il Primo on Preston and booked our Valentine's day seating. The evening arrived and we put on pantyhose (me) and tie (Steve) and presented ourselves at the door.

Our reservation was nowhere to be found. The tables were full.

It turned out they had written down our reservation on January 14th, not on February 14th.

I almost cried as we went back to the car and decided to go see a movie instead. Half way to the theatre, the restaurant called us; they'd had a cancellation and could seat us after all!

We doubled back and enjoyed a truly delicious meal. At the end of the evening, the owner gave us a gift certificate for a complimentary meal - which we enjoyed several weeks later.

[Okay, so that one was decidedly not a disaster, but you do see how it could have been, right?]

A few years later, we decided to dine at a new restaurant rather than our tried-and-true favourites. We are both fans of Greek food (and have a trip to Greece somewhere in our future, probably after the flames have died down), so we went looking for something Hellenic. In Colorado.

Now Colorado Springs has some excellent dining, notably some fabulous Mexican cuisine and Thai food, but Greek is not very popular. But we got recommendations and showed up on Valentine's night.

We were overdressed. They ran out of the entree and the wine that I wanted. The lighting was glaring. The cabinetry was ... oily, sticky. It again had that diner allure to it.

So, we have learned: book early (and accurately) and a special night is not the night to try something new.

And, when all else fails, we just remind ourselves: we're together, and that's what matters.

P.S. This year, the plan is to go to a nice, little Italian restaurant downtown, but Steve has been stricken by the Cold from Hades and may not feel up to a dinner out. I won't count that as a disastrous date, but I will take a raincheck. And flowers.