Cynic meets Romantic

You know the last guy who tried to romance me did not live to tell the tale. Some time around the first grade I must have had a very traumatic experience with a Valentine because I think up until the age of five I looked forward to the sugar high along with the Jem Valentines. That is simply not the case anymore. I start to see candy hearts and red and hives breakout on my body. I like to spend February 14 at the bar. Specifically one that celebrates being singledom and not the idea of Cupids arrow.

It started Friday. I went out of my way to make it very clear to New Guy that there should be no celebration Wednesday (NOTHING!). He does such a swell job of pretending not to listen to me until Sunday night, when he suggests that we could do something Wednesday, so I ask for options in a multiple choice form, here are my options:

a) long walk and stare longingly into each other
b) He cooks me dinner
c) We eat out
d) Go to a movie
e) Sex (10 hrs, I told him he didn’t have the time. He told me I didn’t have the
stamina).
f) Quite drink (wow, an entire 15 minutes together)
g) Rent a movie (I pointed out that will ultimately lead to sex)
h) H for Hug.

He made it so clear that he was a romantic (ugh). I clearly am not romantic and have no need for such nonsense. Maybe there is hope for me yet.