Today the valley will be abuzz with a flurry of romantic activity ranging from true love to Fear For Your Life guilt. It’s Valentine’s Day. On paper, it’s designed to favor both genders, but, it’s actually skewed toward little kids, kindergarten teachers, women and those identifying as women. I’ve oft and unsuccessfully fought for a National Guy Valentine’s Day. Simply? It entails women just leaving us men alone, letting us drink beer and watch TV all day on a Wednesday and not going 40 miles near a place that sells, “brunch.”

“Brunch” is where a guy can buy eggs at $28.50 per.

Petrified heart Crabby Appleton I am, I can appreciate romance. Alas, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and Santa Clarita highways are no different. Oddly enough, I have a gal pal. She’s a, hock-ptooey, feminine rights attorney and was set up by friends on a blind date — on Valentine’s Day. She met Mr. Right at a five-star restaurant. Did the obligatory out-of-context smiles and curtsies. Ordered drinks. Her date excuses himself to hit the little boys’ room and not just the hands on the clock started moving, so did the calendar pages. About 20 minutes went by. She waited another five then assumed the Possible Future Father Of Her Children had been stricken with cold feet and he ducked out on her. My barrister amiga headed toward the front door of the large and snooty eatery, noticing that there were cops and paramedics by the restroom. They wheel the gurney past her. Under the sheet?

It’s. Her. Date.

He’d been murdered in the men’s room. Top that. Worse? She had to pay the bar tab.........

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