Valentine’s Day is a great day, if you’re a single guy.

First of all, there is no pressure to buy your old lady crap. You don’t have to spend a week planning something you really don’t feel like doing to begin with. You don’t have to spend $100 on roses, take her to dinner, go see some sappy chick flick–none of that shit. It’s a wonderful, free, OMG-I-can-breathe feeling.

Secondly, Valentine’s Day is great for single guys because not all girls have boyfriends. THIS is the time of year that single gals get desperate. They have this panicky kind of feeling if they don’t have fabulous plans for Valentine’s Day. THIS is THE time of year where if a girl doesn’t have a guy they feel like they aren’t complete, they feel inadequate. Like, “What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t anybody want me?” kind of feelings. When you see them you can tell, right away. You can smell their pathetic desperation. This is why Valentine’s Day is the best day of the year for single guys–you’re guaranteed to hook up.

Such was the case Saturday night. Janden called me. “Meet me at Team Players”. 8pm, I’m there.

Janden is already two pitchers of Sierra ahead of me, and he’s pretty drunk. I take an empty seat next to him at the bar and pour myself a pint.

Right away we pinpoint two girls sitting around the corner from us. You can just taste their desperation. Two single girls without dates on Valentine’s Day. They look pretty pathetic. This will be an easy score.

These two girls invited us back to one of their houses for drinks. It was pretty early, only about 11pm. I was thinking it was too early to be settling on these two chicks when we had 3 more hours of pick-up time ahead of us. But Janden wanted to go, and these two girls were persistent, so we left.

By this time I’m sufficiently drunk. I’ve been slamming Celebration and doing shots of rum. I’m right there on the borderline–one more shot and I’ll lose it. I can’t remember the girls’ real names so I give them nicknames. Timbuktu and JLo. I’m in the car and I’m starting to spin. All three of them are smoking. I’m trying very hard to resist. We arrived at Timbuktu’s house.

I got out of the car and tried to get my bearings. The air was very cold, and damp, and felt good on my face. It had been raining on and off all day. I don’t recognize the neighborhood at all. I wasn’t paying attention on the drive over–I was trying to keep it together, I was getting the spins. So I have no idea where I am.

We’re walking along a fence and turn the corner into a driveway. It’s a very small one story house with a little front yard. Janden is ahead of me as we walk through the gate. Then Janden trips on something and falls flat on his face, and I on top of him. Poor Janden. He helps me up and I look around the yard, and… it’s full of toys. Like, little kid toys. Tonka toys and whiffle ball bats and a plastic car big enough to fit a small kid inside.

Kids. Turns out they both have kids. It figures. That’s what you have to deal with at my age. If a girl is single at 30 that means one of two things: One, she’s divorced and has kids. Two, she’s fucked up in the head and nobody wanted her. This is my dating pool.

So we go inside and I head straight for the fridge. No beer. I’m starting to get a little pissed at this point. We left a great bar full of chicks on the BEST FUCKING NIGHT OF THE YEAR TO HOOK UP with two single moms. I don’t know exactly where I am but I do know I’m far enough away from downtown. I’m stuck here. Shit.

Then I start thinking crazy stuff. Like, “OMG these girls are psychos. They’re going to chop us up into little pieces Janden!” My eyes survey the kitchen. OK. The kitchen knives are betweeen me and them. Good. I reach down with my right hand and make sure my knife is still in my front pocket. Good, good. If they try any monkey business I can stick ’em.

I headed into the kitchen and started cooking up margaritas. Once a bartender, always a bartender. I had a drink and relaxed, and settled into my routine. I was in prime form, telling all my best jokes and using all my best material. I had these girls eating out of the palm of my hand.

Now I can’t remember the nicknames I gave the girls before, so they get new ones. The cute girl is wearing a belt buckle with a big ol’ star on it, so she gets dubbed The Pornstar. The other girl gets a boring name, Two Kids.

Next thing I know Janden is making out with the girl I was working on, The Pornstar. This doesn’t surprise me. I know what I have to do. To be a good wingman you need to take one for the team. You have to talk to the boring girl, so your buddy can get laid. You see, if you ignore the “other” one eventually she’ll get bitchy. She’ll get bored, she’ll be pissed nobody is entertaining her, and soon she’ll insist she has to go RIGHT NOW. So it was that night. Janden and Porn Star went to her bedroom, and I’m stuck with Two Kids.

Now it’s like 3am and I’m really, really tired. I’m drunk, I’m hungry, and I just want to sleep. I go sit down on the couch. Two Kids sits next to me and starts stroking my hair. She jumps me. I’m zoning in and out of consciousness, sleeping and not sleeping, kissing and not kissing.

At around 5am I look at my watch. Man, it is time to go. The wingman’s duties have been fulfilled. As quietly as I can I get up, get dressed and make for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Shit. “I uh, I can’t sleep here, it hurts my back. I really need to get a good night’s sleep. I uh, need to write a paper tomorrow, due Monday. So I gotta go.” I unlock the door.

“We can go back to my house, I have a really big bed.”

Yeah, and two kids I say to myself. “I really need to get some rest. I gotta go.” I open the door.

“Can I have your number?”

Dammit, why won’t this girl let me go? I start to panic. I’m thinking crazy thoughts about getting cut into pieces again. “I have your number, it’s in my cell phone. I’ll call you later.”

And with that I scurry out the door. I think I heard her say something as I shut the door, but I don’t care. I’m still a little drunk. I just want to eat and go sleep all day. I pick a direction and start walking.

Man, I’m really out in BFE. Where am I? It’s not a very nice part of town. All the houses have junked cars in the front yard. The street lights are out, there are no sidewalks, and everything is muddy. It starts to rain. Perfect.

Like 20 minutes later I come to an intersection I recognize. Jesus, I’m like 10 miles from my house. We’re in like, Durham or something. I’m starting to feel a little vomity, so I sit down on the curb (is this starting to sound familiar?). My feet are in the water headed down the curb to the gutter (at least I’ve got my shoes). The water is nice and cool and feels good on my tired feet. My shoes and socks are soaking wet, and I just don’t give a shit. I call a cab and try to keep it together. I made it home without getting sick. Crash.

Today I get a phone call.

Not on my cell phone, on my land line. I normally keep the ringer off on the land line because nobody knows that number and I never give it out. Hell, I don’t even know it. If you want to get ahold of me you call my cell phone.

Well, yesterday I ordered pizza and gave the place my land line number. I turned on the ringer in case they needed to call me back, and forgot to turn it back off. So today the phone rings. I’m in the middle of doing something online, so I’m not really thinking about it. I reach over and answer the phone.

“Hey Tom, it’s Nikki.”

Nikki? Who the fuck is Nikki?

“Who?”

“You know, Timbuktu? Porn Star?”

“Oh yeah, hey what’s up?” How the fuck did you get my land line number? I don’t even know it. Nobody knows it. I’m starting to get really creeped out. Ever see Fatal Attraction?

“Did Janden like me?” she asked me, voice quivering.

Oh man, how to handle this? “I don’t know, I’ve been uh, really busy and uh, haven’t talked to Janden since that night.”

“Did you like Jen?”

Jen. Jen? Oh, Two Kids. “Jen, yeah… uh, you know, Jen has two kids. I’m not into that, you know? That’s not what I’m looking for. You understand? I mean, maybe it would be different if they didn’t live with her full time…” OK, that went well.

“But she’s really cool and she really liked you.”

“Yeah, uh… yeah. Sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m not interested.” Please, leave me alone. Please?

“OK well here’s my number, give it to Janden will ya?” I can hear her kid screaming in the background.

“Sure. Yeah, I’ll do that.” Click. Whew. Creeped out. Psycho!

That just happened about 30 minutes ago. I’m sitting here, worrying now. Shit, if they can get my phone number does that mean they know where I live? Crap. Crap a crap. (cue the theme music from Psycho)

I need to call Janden now.