So I met Cupid yesterday. No, not the guy with the song that my four-year-old nephew could dance to. The real Cupid. Eros, Kama, whatever you want to call him. He came into the bar I work at and ordered a whiskey sour. I asked him if he was old enough to drink.

“Kid, I’m hundreds of years older than you are. Don’t give me that crap,” he said.

After his second drink, he asked me if I was single and winked. When I told him I wasn’t, he gave me a cold look. Word of advice: Don’t ever provoke your bartender. I was about to cut him off, but he kept a firm grip on his drink.

“I’m the god of love for crying out loud! Why can’t I get a girl?” he slurred.

Oh Lord, here we go. How do I end up serving these people? Two years (and four months) ago, I was alone for a while. I learned quickly that wallowing in self-pity got me nowhere; nobody was going to date me because they felt sorry for me.

I asked him what he was doing here on Valentine’s Day when he should be out shooting magic arrows at people.

“Everyone says Valentine’s Day is a stupid holiday created by the greeting card industry. The single people feel sorry for themselves and take their anger out on me. Men who aren’t single hate it because they have to buy flowers. Women will look forward to it, and then hate it when their men forget to buy them flowers. I can’t win!”

“See, I don’t get that,” I said. “I thought Valentine’s Day was about all kinds of love, not just romantic love.”

“Exactly!” Cupid said. “It’s not about the presents or the greeting cards or whether or not you have a significant other. It’s about loving all the people who make your life special.”

After relating these thoughts to my short, drunken guest, he felt a little better. “You think I have a shot with the tooth fairy?” he asked.

“I don’t see why not. Is she nice?” I asked.

“She can be a little high maintenance,” he said.

“It must be like pulling teeth with her.”

He paid his tab and thanked me when “The Cupid Shuffle” came on the jukebox.

“Man, I hate this song!” he said, dancing his way to the parking lot. I almost asked him if he needed a cab before he flew into a lamppost.

“I’m OK!” he yelled before flying off to make people fall in love – or at least get some booty.

Happy Valentine’s Day