Valentines Day is one of the more depressing days of the year to be single in a Manhattan full of pink and cupids, set menus and single roses.
Mostly, being footloose and fancy free in the city can be a lot of fun, but then Christmas, or New Years, or your younger brother’s engagement party comes along and knocks some of the joir de vivre out of it.
Sara, who’s not been feeling the reveling-in-my-freedom-in-this-urban-paradise vibe for a while now, has felt each one of these dates keenly; even more so since she counted up the days in her diary since the last time she waxed for the benefit of company, and found the number to be unconscionably large. Continue reading