Valentine's Day at the Food Court

Dan and I have never been much for Valentine's Day. Some years, we exchange tacky gifts as jokes; other years, we might exchange a card. This year, we decided to skip it altogether. Instead of talking about dinner plans with all of my co-workers and heading out of the office early for a big night, I worked until 7:30 and then met Dan at the mall to pick him up from seeing "There Will Be Blood" with friends (please try not to be jealous of our fairy tale romance).

While waiting for Dan to emerge from the movie theater, I treated myself to a slice of pizza from the food court. I ended up sitting across from a group of teenagers, one of whom spoke to me.

Teenage Boy: What's a pretty thing like you doing sitting by yourself? You got a valentine?

Me: I'm actually waiting for my valentine right now.

Teenage Boy: A pretty thing like you shouldn't be waiting for anyone.

Me: How old are you?

Teenage Boy: Seventeen. How old are you?

Me: I'm almost 29. I'm a married woman.

Teenage Boy: Oh. You look a lot younger.

While I usually take offense at statements like "pretty thing," he was obviously just a kid, and it was actually a very friendly conversation. The funny thing was that he spoke with such confidence; the words rolled off his tongue just like he had quoted them from a movie and practiced them in front of a mirror. Even after Dan arrived at my table, the boy said to me, "So this is the lucky guy?" and then asked Dan and I if we wanted to join him and his friends for a movie (I don't get it, either). He then proceeded to continue scanning the food court, scoping the scene for other potential valentines.

At lunch with co-workers today, people gave me reports of the flowers they received (red roses and more red roses), the gifts they were given (chocolates and stuffed animals), and the dinners they ate (at crowded restaurants). I liked my story better.