What's love got to do with it

<div class="section1"><div class="Normal"><script language="javascript">doweshowbellyad=0; </script><br /><img align="right" src="/photo/496477.cms" alt="/photo/496477.cms" border="0" />That V word one more time and I am out of here. Why is a downright hedonistic celebration of all things lusty being cloaked in sickening pink and pretending to be about that thing called love? <br /><br />At the best of times love is just a four-letter word. On Valentine''s Day, even more so. Look around. Card. Gift. Sale. Bear (Teddy). Ring. Date. And, aha, lust. <br /><br />If you thought there was any other reason he was shelling out for those baubles and an expensive dinner, the answer lies in the sheer black negligee that he handed over wrapped in pink ribbons just as you were spooning extra rich chocolate mousse into your rosebud mouth. It''s a size small and if you eat more of that mousse, you know where you''ll show it. <br /><br />There could be two reasons he gave you that gossamer. If you aren''t married to him, it''s to tell you that all that good money has been spent on getting you where he''s been trying to get you for the six weeks you''ve been dating. Preferably without the negligee. <br /><br />And if you are married to him he''s telling you that though he''s spent all that good money to buy peace, he''d rather be doing so for someone who could fit into this little piece of nothing. <br /><br />So what''s love got to do with it, anyway? Everything in a city gone insane is awash in hearts. Pink ones. You thought it was weekend advertisement for open heart surgery. They tell you it''s Valentine''s Day. <br /><br /></div> </div><div class="section2"><div class="Normal">You cannot step into that city mall to buy a pair of everyday walking shoes - and nothing romantic about it - without walking into a massive heart-shaped balloon that then goes into a giddy tailspin. Beyond, a girl who ought to be in school, nose buried in a book, sprays expensive perfume in the air and invites you to buy. For whom? <br /><br />There are chocolates - good enough confections, only these too have been fashioned to look like hearts on this day. <br /><br />What''s wrong with the world? There''s a heart on the wall in the loo, clearly an amateur at work, there''s a cardboard heart hanging at the grocer''s. There''s a psychedelic, throbbing heart on the car you just drove into - gaudy, lit up with lights. You wait for the driver and his shotgun. <br /><br />A young man walks out. Surveys the damage, shrugs, walks up to you. You try to stare him down. Omigod, there is a heart, in gold, hanging halfway down the chest on a glinting gold chain. <br /><br />He bends down to peer into your car, heart in your face. You flinch, he grins: "Hi auntie, no hassles. Happy Valentine''s Day." His date peeps out from the car and waves merrily. <br /><br />I want to go home and die.<br /><br /><formid=367815></formid=367815></div> </div>