Valentine Cramming

Today at work we had a potluck and the theme was Valentine’s Day (surprise). I mentioned to a couple of the ladies on staff that I didn’t have a plan for Valentine’s Day as of now. Of course, they were appalled. “It’s next week!” they said emphatically. Here’s the thing about The Jammer that you need to know. Even though I don’t have a plan, I ALWAYS have a plan. I know that doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense so I’ll explain.

It’s no secret men are inept at things like planning for Valentine’s Day, Anniversaries, or anything that requires thinking outside themselves. But there is something we men are absolutely good at, namely, cramming like a bunch of crazy people. So it’s become an annual ritual with a couple of buddies of mine to call each other and frantically come up with a plan for our wives on Valentine’s Day. Naturally all the good restaurants are booked and the restaurants that don’t require reservations will be jammed packed like the New York subway systems.

So then, with going out to dinner out of the question we usually retrace our steps. One of us will ask, “What did you do last year?” just to eliminate that idea because you can’t do the same thing two years in a row because women actually remember stuff like that. They want creativity and imagination, you know, the categories most men stink at. But when a group of desperate men attempting to avoid the wrath of their wives come together to figure out a plan it’s not only comical but sometimes productive. So am I worried? No. Well, maybe a little. Will we figure something out by next week? Probably. But in case the guys and I can’t come up with anything there are plenty of flower shops designed to prey on last-minute-desperately-attempting-to-avoid-wrath-from-our-wives type of men (like myself) that could always bail us out in a jam for the right price. I don’t need to know the logic behind why women love flowers. I’m just content using it to my advantage.

And if all else fails? There are always guys selling flowers on the intersections of streets, along with peanuts and oranges. So guys, when you get home and show your wife the flowers you bought her, make sure you hide the peanuts and oranges.