Joe SargentMy stomach hurts, my head is aching and I really want a greasy burger.
This was me the morning after Valentine’s Day. But let me fill you in on all the details that led to my post-Valentine’s Day hangover.
On the most romantic holiday of the year, I decided to hang out with some friends, a band and a whole bunch of liquor at a bar.
For those with a significant other, Valentine’s Day is a day for love and gifts. But for many singles, Valentine’s is a drinking holiday up there with St. Patrick’s Day and Cinco de Mayo – so I decided to join in the festivities.
A large group of friends and myself decided to go to Frog & Peach. Some are in relationships, some aren’t, but everyone went because it was pint night and a band was playing.
The bars have an odd mix of really happy couples, singles looking for other singles, the lonely professionals and the horny. And the only thing these varied groups have in common is their need to drink.
Some drink to ease the comfort of an awkward Valentine’s date, some drink because this is their fifth Valentine’s with their significant other and they have run out of things to talk about, and then others drink because of their lack of a significant other.
It might seem sad, but everyone was having a good time – the band was good, pints were cheap and once you got into the bar it was as if Valentine’s Day doesn’t exist. The bar is a safe haven from the pink, the cards and the candy. The only reminder is the double chocolate stout.
That’s why people drink on Valentine’s Day. It’s not that the bar is depressing, it’s that pink hell of a holiday that is depressing. The bar is fun, and since you can’t take the comforting feeling of the bar home with you, you take as much alcohol as you can home with you.
But as the night progresses, the mood starts changing, people realize they are eventually going to have to leave the bar and go back out into the “real” Valentine’s Day world.
A girl jumped on stage while the band was tuning up, sang a few verses of “Joy to the World” (also known as “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog”), tells the bar she is a Taurus, does a little jig and then jumps off the stage. People are starting to lose their minds.
Then you wake up. You don’t think about the night before, you just think about how your brain feels like it is four times its normal size and attempting to escape from your head, and just like that the memory (or what memory you have of Valentine’s Day) is gone for another year.
Sweet.