I have always appreciated Three Brothers Bakery’s tradition of churning out amusing and delicious “Anti-Valentine’s Day” baked goods in the spirit of bitterness and misanthropy. A few years ago, I even wrote an article expounding on why for me Valentine’s Day hasn’t been all chocolate and roses.
But I left out the best part of the story.
Yes, on February 14, 2004, my then-boyfriend unceremoniously broke up with me leaving me royally depressed, slightly pissed, and most definitely single on the holiday. And, then Matt, one of my best guy pals, then took me out for fried food and an enormous sundae at Cabot’s, the world’s greatest ice cream parlor. Why can’t we have something like this in Houston?
The cruel crucial detail I left out in the initial telling of this pathetic narrative (to protect the other victim, who has since given his blessing for publication) is that right after Matt dropped me off, he went to pick up his long-term girlfriend to go out for their Valentine’s Day romantic evening and she promptly broke up with him. (For reasons having nothing to do with me.) So, Matt and I met up again that same day and tried to convince each other that we were not the biggest losers on the planet.
But damn it if every Valentine’s Day the memory of that annoying prick who dumped me fleets across my mind for at least a few seconds. And thank God for Three Brothers because then I can quell my bitterness with a gigantic, sweet frosted sugar cookie replete with a poop emoji that reads “Love Stinks.” Next, just for good measure, I might relish a cute, moist petit four with “BITE ME” scrawled in red icing across its chocolate surface. I also may pick up a half-dozen of pink “I Hate You” cookies to distribute at random to people not behaving themselves or anyone non-ironically sporting a “Make America Great Again” hat.
With my sugar fix secured, I’m primed to focus on all the positive aspects of my life, including but not limited to the fact that I have the love of my spouse, family and friends. Oh, and also that guy who honked at me this morning when I was running and I think shouted, “I luv you, cutie!” Though maybe it was “I luv your bootie!” Regardless, I am blessed.