Valentine’s Day Massacre

Valentine’s Day, 11 am:

Well, it’s here again: The Valentine’s Day gun to my head. I decided to write a post today that is continually updated with increasing levels of desperation as I scramble to find a suitable gift for my wife. Please post suggestions, as I can honestly state that any idea will be given my full consideration.

I’m really hoping I can deliver a clutch performance when the pressure is on. I’m looking for some last minute heroics, a real buzzer beater here, instead of the epic choke that appears imminent.

Of course, if I spent a fraction of the time I will spend writing about how I can’t come up with a gift idea actually researching some gift ideas, none of this would matter in the first place.

And on that note, I’m going to wander over to the vending machines and Lost and Found box in our office to see if there are any suitable gifts to be had…

Valentine’s Day, 12:02 pm:

Well, the Lost and Found box was a big disappointment, although I did find some Star Wars action figures that I thought were stolen. My file cabinet felt naked without a recreation of the battle for the Moon of Endor sitting on top of it.

And the vending machines were equally lackluster. It was a long shot to begin with, but I thought that maybe if they had a peanut butter Twix I might be able to pass that off as an acceptable Valentine’s Day gift. No luck though, just regular Twix. We all know that won’t fly.

This probably goes without saying, but vending machines are generally not a good place to do your gift shopping. This is especially true of vending machines in men’s rooms. Trust me, despite claims to the contrary; a novelty condom will not drive her wild.

I can feel the first twinge of sweat proliferating on my brow…

Valentine’s Day, 1:53 pm:

Finally, the first stroke of good luck: I’ve got dinner plans taken care of. It was hectic there for awhile. First, I was calling restaurants offering to tip well, bus my own table, provide my own candlelight, eat standing up, whatever it would take to secure a reservation… No dice.

Then I started dialing restaurants pretending to be a celebrity hoping it would cause a table to suddenly open up. So, I began calling restaurants delivering my dead-on impersonations of Mayor Quimby (from the Simpsons), Pee Wee Herman, Chewbacca, former president Bill Clinton, and Kermit the Frog. Not surprisingly, this plan backfired as well.

It wasn’t until a Chinese Restaurant fell for my “regional health inspector” routine that I landed a table… suckers. As long as my wife doesn’t mind me carrying a clipboard to dinner and excusing myself periodically to inspect the kitchen for health code violations, this has all the makings of a romantic evening…

Valentine’s Day, 2:46 pm:

Thanks for all the suggestions… Good work gentlemen.

Gabe suggested that I get my wife her own Xbox for Valentine’s Day. I’ve actually thought about this from time to time. Every so often though, she asks if she can play “MarioKart” on the Xbox. Obviously, she’s clearly not ready for an Xbox.

Solo, thanks for the advice. Although, I’ll need to find a “Hip-Hop to English” dictionary to translate it.

Booth, also provided some solid advice. Next year I’ll begin laying the groundwork weeks in advance to get out of finding a gift. I really should have set aside some of the gifts I purchased for her on Groundhog’s Day…

Valentine’s Day, 3:58 pm:

This is starting to shape up like an episode of “24.” Although I kind of doubt Jack Bauer would switch spots with me. Battling terrorists and stopping a nuclear apocalypse is nothing compared to scrambling to find a last minute gift on Valentine’s Day.

I’ll admit, things are getting desperate. I may even have to stoop to calling the International Star Registry. This is the last ditch effort for many pathetic men. For $39, this organization allows you to name a star after someone special and place it in the International Star Registry. Believe me, this is a horrible gift idea. First off, anytime a trip to the local observatory is required to actually see your present, you know you’ve given a pretty crappy gift. And when it comes to gifts, in general, if it’s not visible with the naked eye, it’s not worth giving.

Finally, it is said that there are as many stars in the universe as grains of sand on earth. Think about that. There’s literally a zillion stars out there. So, I’ve decided to take it one step further. I’m going to name a grain of sand after my wife as her Valentine’s Day gift. I’ve already picked it out too. It’s located in the backyard, near the mailbox. It’s kind of brownish in color… Happy Valentine’s Day Sweetheart!”

Well, I’m heading out to meet my wife for dinner. Good times. While I’ve spent the day writing this post, I’m sure she’s spent the day filing divorce papers. I’m sure she knows me well enough to know I always have a trick up my sleeve…

Valentine’s Day, 6:32 pm:

I hope you didn’t think I’d leave this post with a cliffhanger like that… I know you all need closure to this running diary.

The truth is, all along, I had planned to surprise my wife with tickets to the Gonzaga game on Thursday. Honestly, the list for tickets for these events surpasses organ donor waiting lists in length. In other words, surprising my wife with Gonzaga tickets was harder than surprising her with the Holy Grail.

So how did I pull off this fourth quarter magic? Aside from having a dominant “Elway” gene, I also have a friend with connections to the Gonzaga athletic department. A relentless campaign of groveling emails and phone calls over the last week to the aforementioned connection eventually ended with a pair of tickets that saved my marriage.

Valentine’s Day, 7:08 pm:

Well, it’s time for me to join my wife in the hot tub with a bottle of wine. Unfortunately, I won’t be updating you on the rest of the evening… (unless it ends up involving the Xbox, which is likely.)

10 thoughts on “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

  1. All I can say is that I thought I was a procrastinator, and now I find someone who’s really waiting until the very last minute. Good work buddy. Being that I don’t know your wife at all, and therefore am not sure what she would like, I can think of a few suggestions depending on her likes and dislikes:
    1. Her very own Christbox. I’m not sure how it works around your house but my guess is she’s not allowed around yours. This would allow her to expand her interests, although the experiences may be something too sacred to share with even someone like a spouse.
    2. Tickets to minor league hockey. Always a good gift for the girl who likes sports, being close to the action, beer, hot dogs (you could even bring DA alongs), and blood on the ice.
    3. A trip to the spa for some foo foo treatment. The kind of gift my wife, and many other women, would enjoy. I can’t say from experience, you’d have to ask Peterson, but I hear facials are always nice. Throw in a massage too and you’ll be sitting pretty. She won’t even be mad that you waited until the very last day to get her a present. Although maybe you’re so high-tech that you can block her (and maybe all the ladies, since they’re known to spout off about things they shouldn’t) from reading this particular post.

  2. Here’s a piece of advice for the future I found this year. Go for a trip with your wife about 10 days before Valentine’s and tell her it’s your “gift” to each other for that year. It’s just up to you to pick the right location … I highly recommend Vegas. That way, you’re “spending time special together away from home,” except you’re at a craps table.
    My only obligation for today was a card.

  3. You spent all weekend trying to dial us all in for some Halo 2 and then you post this? MR, you’re priorities are the same as mine this Valentine’s day… but I’m single!

    And to clarify, Solo is, of course, referring to a Range Rover, not a kitchen appliance.

    My idea for a gift this Valentine’s day would be to make her breakfast and bring it to her while she is still in bed…. too bad you already f’d that up! At my house this morning, I woke up to a healthy breakfast of bedovers I apparently made for myself last night. What a sweetheart I was to myself last night! What can I say, I’m in love and I’m not afraid to shout it from a mountaintop! (I’m just too lazy to get to a mountain top.)

  4. thanks for the ebonic translation DA, can always count on you to let people know what’s poppin? you can translate the last sentence too.

  5. Solo, just making sure Captain Sears knows what’s up. He spent the formative years of his life pushing extended warranties on anyone with a pulse after all…

    And to you, MR, congratulations on finding a way to spend the entire work day writing one post. Legendary.

  6. I have to agree with DA that getting paid to post on Zillionaire instead of working was a Valentine’s Day present for all of us. Good work MR.

    I do wonder, though, why is your mailbox in your backyard?

  7. For the record, we have one of those “community” mail boxes in our neighborhood. It’s great. It makes it equally inconvenient for everyone to get their mail.

  8. I can’t believe you didn’t pull out the Cliff Clavin! Sure, you’ve only got one line and it’s more of an exclamation, but that would have sealed the deal for you.

  9. Matt, were you raised by wolves? What part of Valentine Day don’t you get?
    Basketball tickets would be a gift that Will would give to Grace or one guy would give to another guy for fixing his car or something.
    I hope Jeannette can forgive you; I’m repelled!

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