The Galway Girl

Valentine's Day, a deceptive affair orchestrated by corporations like Hallmark, had always left a bitter taste in my mouth. It was a fabricated scheme, exploiting the insecurities of those who lacked the audacity to express their love on any other day. Now, you might think that my disdain stemmed from never receiving a Valentine's Day card, but that would be far from the truth. In fact, I had been the recipient of numerous tokens of affection in the past, even going so far as to purchase them for individuals who never reciprocated my feelings. Looking back, I now realize that my infatuations were grave missteps that paved the way for a string of failed relationships. However, dwelling on the past was not my style. I had long abandoned the notion of locking myself away with chocolates, indulging in saccharine romances, and yearning for a fairy tale ending. That was not who I had become.

14th February 1997

"Elvie, we're already twenty minutes behind schedule!" Ciara's impatience echoed up the stairs as I hurriedly discarded my work attire, inadvertently puncturing my earlobe with an earring in the process. But there was no time for tears; I had to complete my transformation before Ciara stormed upstairs, whether I was fully prepared or not.

Ciara and I had been friends since our school days. While I had relinquished the pursuit of love, she still clung to the notion of finding her elusive soulmate. She possessed an extensive checklist of requirements for her ideal man, and no amount of persuasion could dissuade her from the belief that he was still out there, waiting to be discovered.

"I'm coming! Just give me a minute!" I hollered, dashing downstairs and hastily changing into something suitable for the occasion. Ciara remained steadfast on the bottom step, radiating boredom as she plopped herself down. I snatched my jacket, responding to her relentless barrage of questions about my delayed departure from work. This was our night out, after all, and we had plans to uphold.

Apologizing to the cab driver for our unpunctuality, I trailed behind Ciara as we exited the front door, ensuring it was securely locked behind us. We had established a tradition of spending Valentine's Day together, drowning our sorrows in alcohol if love continued to elude us. Secretly, I dreaded the day when Ciara would discover her perfect match, forcing us to bid farewell to our cherished tradition.

As the cab pulled up outside the pub, I hastily settled the fare and scrambled out of the backseat. Standing beside Ciara, I smoothed out the wrinkles in my skirt, mentally preparing myself for the evening ahead. "Are we ready?" I inquired.

Ciara nodded, striking a pose, and asked, "How do I look?" as if she were a contestant in a beauty pageant.

"Desperate?" I quipped, eliciting a playful pout from Ciara.

I followed her into the bustling bar, where the lively strains of Irish folk music reverberated from every corner. Gesturing for Ciara to secure a table, I maneuvered through the crowd, deftly sidestepping the occasional rowdy patron. While waiting my turn at the bar, a tall, bald man unexpectedly obstructed my path. My attempt to navigate around him was met with a fiery glare. I swiftly apologized, but before I could retreat, a reassuring arm encircled my shoulder, gently guiding me closer to the bar.

"You're okay; he thinks you're with me..." the man assured me, his voice laced with amusement.

"What?" I asked, my uncertainty evident in my voice. "Hold on...what exactly do you mean by 'with you'?" I replied, hoping for further explanation.

"Well, I don't think he was too pleased that you tried to jump the queue..." The man gestured towards the still glowering 'baldy' at the bar.

"Oops... maybe I should buy him a drink as an apology," I mused, considering the idea.