I didn’t expect Valentine’s Day to be so painful.
I’d walked into my grocery store for a couple of ingredients needed for that night’s dinner, mindlessly unaware it was February 14, when the scene caught me short.
The store was packed with shoppers — mostly male – picking up a last-minute Valentine’s gift.
As I walked into the store, men in dress shirts and ties from a day at the office were walking out with bouquets and balloons. The store was awash with pink and red and getting to my needed ingredients meant passing through stands of flowers, tables stacked with Valentine cupcakes and cookie cakes, and bins filled with assorted boxed chocolates.
Taking a short cut to the back of the store, I passed the card aisle which turned out to be a poor choice.