For a long time, I didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day—a decision that ended up taking more effort than simply letting the holiday run its course. That’s because a simple dinner reservation for two on February 14 meant that Valentine’s Day was going to be shoved down my throat whether I ordered it or not.
But one woman’s trash can be another woman’s treasure, and some women would be happy with either. Consider the case of February 13, which is unofficially known as “Mistress Day.”
The logic is simple. As Valentine’s Day approaches, the mistress tosses and turns in her sleep with nightmares of her married man spending a tender moment with his wife, and wakes up the next morning on a mission to amp up her courtesan charms. You can guess what happens next.
Driven by his libido, the two-timing man rushes to appease his mistress by offering to take her out on the 13th instead. In doing so, he preempts any trouble she may cause on the night of the 14th, when he repeats the same routine with the wife. And after two days of sitting in the hot seat, if he did his job orchestrating the volatile dynamics so that neither girl feels slighted, he’s free to do his victory dance on the 15th.
For a restaurateur, this can mean two things: 1) a sad realization about the faults of human nature and 2) double the profits. While February 13 hides inconspicuously in the “white spaces” on our calendar, it is one of the busiest days of the year for many of our favorite dining establishments. We’re talking the same number of bookings as Valentine’s Day, the same amount of multi-course dinners and pricey bottles, and oftentimes the same men (albeit with two different dining companions). Freud would have a field day explaining the twisted nature of it all.
I wonder how those dimly-lit rooms, gratuitous rose petals, and pink menus worked out for them. Because I never believed in the idea of romance on demand.