I didn't even think about Valentine's Day this year. It was probably because I went home on Thursday, rushing to get my car serviced in Miami on Friday and then drive back to Gainesville in time for the big Tet show on Saturday night (I have a big job in the new Asian student council, and they always have good food at the Vietnamese functions anyway).

So Valentine's Day found me soaring up Florida's Turnpike at thirteen to twenty miles over the speed limit, cursing the rain showers of the swamp and flashing the slow drivers out of the way, then running through the downpour to bring my stuff in, then showering at high speed and throwing on my suit.

The Vietnamese did several traditional love songs during the show, which I used as segues to get more food and drink in preparation for the comedy and dance acts. There were couples all over the place, of course: many non-Vietnamese guys hang out in the Vietnamese crowd just to pick up girls. But I wasn't even paying attention.

I haven't had a girlfriend on Valentine's Day in all twenty years of my life, so maybe it just doesn't mean much to me. It certainly doesn't mean much to my father: he wouldn't hesitate to tell me about the old country where they didn't give a damn about the holiday.

Before I left town, I rode to Costco with my stepmom, and bought her a Christmas CD collection on the way out. She loves Christmas music, even in February. Anyway, at least I know that on this Valentine's Day, I made one woman happy.