TROLLEY TROLLOP: COUPLE OF HATERS

You know what, single people? You don’t get to have a monopoly on hating Valentines Day.

See, while I may be a happily married woman, I hate Valentines Day too. And always have for one simple reason. It combines the two things I hate the most.

1. Expectations

2. Being forced to share my seven-layer chocolate cake dessert in the name of supposed love (It’s my CAKE! MINE!)

Luckily, I’m married to a guy who, if he doesn’t hate Valentines Day with the same fervor I do, is at least ambivalent toward it. Which means when I say “hey, want to go to an Irish pub and get wasted for Valentines Day followed by sitting around at home in our sweatpants and eating fried things?” he’s more than game.

And that’s why I love living in Boston, which did not even rank in the top 20 list of the most romantic U.S. cities. (Just as a reference point for what that means, Dayton, Ohio, the place I grew up in, was ranked No. 9, and I once saw a hobo trying to nurse a rat outside a Dayton Applebee’s).

Surprisingly, however, there is a shocking lack of things to do in this non-romantic city for a non-couple-ly couple such as ourselves. Every event on Feb 14 falls into one of two categories:

1. Those meant for cheesy couples who think stuffed animals are still an acceptable gift after the age of seven.

2. Those meant for bitter, single people, large groups of drunk “woo-girls” and even larger groups of skeazy guys desperately trying to get into the “woo-girls” pants.

The former gets wooed with pre-fixe menus and pink cocktails with ridiculous names like “Cupid’s Arrowtini” and the latter with dance classes specifically designed for bitter people, pub crawls, pseudo-proms where you’re encouraged to go stag and even a Flirt Fest.

There is at least one saving grace though. The Mortified Boston: Doomed Valentines Show will be in Coolidge Corner Theatre in Brookline on All Vallow’s Eve (Feb. 13 for you noobs). Call me unsentimental if you will (a.k.a. a dude), but watching everyday normal people share their most horrifying and embarrassing stories from their junior high diary is a Valentines Day fantasy come true.

Because if there is anything that single people, couples, non-couples, platonic friends, friends with benefits and the “it’s complicated” Facebook set can agree on, it’s that laughing at other people’s pain is awesome.

Every. Single. Day. Of. The. Year.

P.S. Show begins at 7:30 p.m. and advance tickets are $15 ($18 at the door).