The Crouton's Ultimate Guide for the Perfect Valentine's Day Date
First off, you gotta go with a classic intro. You rock up to her place in your favorite maroon suede blazer and knock on her door. You’ve got a boombox blasting “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel as you knock on her door. Your girl, let’s call her Jennifer, answers and is completely blown away by the ludicrously sexy 80s vibe. The night has begun.
You both get into your 1994 Buick Park Avenue, one of the greatest luxury cars ever made, and give the pull cord a few good yanks to get it started. It rumbles to life and the dulcet tones of even more Peter Gabriel fill the car as the radio comes on. It’s at that moment that you realize you left your boom box outside her room blasting “In Your Eyes” on a loop. It’s fine, you think to yourself, I’m sure her roommates won’t care if they have to listen to that song the entire night. Peter Gabriel’s the man.
You pull out of the parking lot at breakneck speed and smell burning rubber like a badass. You then turn off the parking brake when you realize that it’s the source of the burning rubber. You hit the open road and drive over to Atlanta’s premier drive-in theater, Starlight Drive-In, for a romantic movie with the bae that your mother hates (“Mijo, porque una white girl como esa, porque no una latina con un poco de culo?”).
The movie starts and you try to pull off “The Move” - you know, the one where you casually put your arm over her shoulder in order to establish your role as the alpha male. But as you do it, you’re distracted by Nicolas Cage screaming about bees (because what better Valentine’s movie is there than the 2006 classic “The Wicker Man”?). Your arm smacks Jennifer right in the nose and she starts bleeding right away. No matter - you’re as smooth as a cop on a segway so you whip out your silk monogrammed handkerchief to help stem the bleeding. No worries man, just a small hiccup, everything is going fine.
Halfway through the movie: Jennifer, still pinching her nose to stop the bleeding, asks if you might want to share a popcorn. There’s no way you’re going to the concession stand in the middle of an Oscar-worthy Nicolas Cage performance, so you do her one better and pull out some teriyaki beef jerky out of the glove compartment. It actually came with the car when you bought it. Good move, buddy, beef jerky is for winners.
The movie ends but you tell Jennifer that the night ain't over. She looks positively thrilled.
You speed out of the lot like a badass again, this time remembering to take off the parking brake. You may or may not have hit the ticket attendant at the entrance as you leave. No worries man, you totally missed him. Though to be honest, it’s actually really hard to tell in a car like this. It’s basically a tank with even worse visibility.
You pull onto the freeway, this time heading to a secret warehouse rave that you know is gonna be the perfect way to end the night. As you hit 65 mph (about as fast you’ve ever gone in this top-of-the-line motor vehicle), you see flashing blue lights in your rearview mirror. Oh crap. Is this because of the dude that I might have slightly run over back at the drive-in? Naaaaaah, it’s just a speeding violation. That’s what I get for being a badass. You start to slow down so you can pull over but, as you do so, you see six more sets of flashing lights in the mirror. Okay, I for sure hit that dude. That’s unfortunate. Jennifer is fumbling for something in her purse.
You get ready to pull over so you can explain to the cops that it was a different ‘94 Buick Park Ave that hit the dude when you feel cold metal against your neck. Jennifer’s got a pretty massive gun pointed at you. “Don’t slow down. Step on it and lose these guys. I’m not going down again.” You do what she says because it really doesn’t look good to argue with your girlfriend on Valentine’s day. You step on it and the Buick hits 85.
Jennifer’s on the phone now and speaking Russian with some guy called Sergei. You feel a pang of jealousy. Wow. Apparently she speaks Russian. And who is this Sergei guy? We’re gonna have to talk about this. The cops are starting to catch up despite the blazing speed of the Buick and Jennifer removes her gun from your neck so she can lean out the window and start firing off slugs in the direction of their pursuers. “Your butt is looking great by the way babe. Those kickboxing classes are really paying off,” you comment. Compliments are always a good move on Valentine’s Day. Two cop cars go into joint tail-spins as she shoots out their tires, blocking off the four cars behind them.
You’ve been driving for about 17 hours. At this point, you don’t know which is more impressive: that Jennifer has managed to shake off 15 cop cars and 4 helicopters, or that you haven’t needed to stop for gas yet. You tell Jennifer she has really pretty eyes even though it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore. Dude, nice one. You’re smoother than Morgan Freeman singing the ABCs.
You suddenly realize that you’re about to cross the Canadian border. It’s our first ever international trip as a couple! You see more flashing lights and a barricade set up just ahead. Jennifer is pulling a bazooka out of her purse (you now know why she couldn’t hold her own goddamn lip gloss every time you go out) and she’s leaning out the window again. Seriously, her butt looks great. She could be in those Sketcher commercials that Kim Kardashian used to do.
You step on the gas. She aims. A blinding flash of light. The sound of broken glass and crunching metal. Then all is quiet.
- Take her to Sublime donuts for a post-date snack. I recommend the S’mores donut with roasted marshmallow ice cream.
Disclaimer: This article is a work of satire. None of the events described below occurred in real life. None of the opinions expressed below reflect those of Georgia Tech. There is no malice meant in the writing of this article and it's sole purpose is comedic effect.