Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays with fuzzy lines on whether or not a gift is required. And if not a gift, then the guy usually gives something short-term that can be eaten, that dies within five days, or that deflates after a week. But the gift given from the girl’s end is always difficult. Guys like flowers, right?…

When Christmas rolled around, I was faced with the same giant question mark of what to get for my honey. Something special, not cheesy, cheap, but not cheap-looking. Good luck finding something that fits that description at the Arden Fair Mall, I thought. Finally, three days before Christmas, I purchased his gift online: a night at The Mosser Hotel in San Francisco’s Union Square for $59! Shopping, city life, and a night alone in a cute, modern hotel for a cheap $59. I was stoked.

So there’s your idea, ladies. Give your man an experience instead of an object, if you’re in a long-term relationship, that is. If you decide to go the vacay route, here are a few things to consider…

Remember in high school how sometimes the girl would ask the guy to prom? If that’s the case, then it’s typically good etiquette for the girl to offer to pay. I forgot this decree and had the rude awakening when charged for parking. Not just on the street either, the parking for our hotel was $30 for one night! So that’s the catch to a $59 hotel.

While walking to the Museum of Modern Art, a homeless guy burst into a tirade and cussed me out for

two blocks. Welcome to San Francisco, I thought. According to my boyfriend, Nick, this happens to everyone. Whether that’s true or not didn’t really help the situation and I cried afterward. My point is, no matter how messed up your trip gets, try not to let it ruin the whole experience.

Nick and I actually got this one half right. Although we hadn’t made a reservation, we planned on eating at the restaurant at the top of the Marc Hopkins Hotel. We even starved ourselves all day in preparation and to save money. By the way, that’s not a great idea seeing as how hungry = grouchy.

We hiked up a particularly steep San Francisco hill, practically sweating in only 50 degree weather. When we finally found the place and arrived at the top floor, it was beautiful, like that scene from Sleepless in Seattle. There was live, jazzy music, people were dancing, and… a sign that says no one under 21 is allowed. Whoops! That rules me out. I am not about to let him go in by himself so we rode down the elevator of shame. A reservation would be smarter. And packing a lunch wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would give you an excuse to chill at a park.

All of a sudden, while we were back on the street searching for a place to eat, six fire trucks came racing from all directions, echoing off the buildings. Nervous laughter ensued as Nick and I realized, “Hey, they’re going in the direction of our hotel.

Heh heh.” Lo and behold, we caught

up to the fire trucks just in time to catch the firemen hoisting a ladder up to the second floor of our hotel. “My new camera!” Nick exclaimed. But with no fire or smoke to speak of and no one trying to jump out the window, we shrugged and continued our quest for a midnight dinner.

Our restaurant of choice after being rejected at the Marc Hopkins Hotel, or more appropriately of no choice, since it was the only thing open, was Mel’s Diner. The last place I wanted to eat was some place we could eat at in Sacramento. But there we were at Mel’s, in our fancy restaurant clothes, seated at a table sandwiched so close to another that we were practically rubbing shoulders with strangers. The chocolate banana milkshakes were definitely the highlight of the day, but after waiting half an hour for our entrees, we were presented with the bill. They had forgotten to place our entire order! When I did get my order, it was wrong, but I wolfed it down nonetheless. The moral: don’t wait too late to eat or research places that are open late.

We never did figure out what happened to our hotel, although our hotel smelled like smoke when we returned that night. I suppose I should have known the kind of cash I’d have to shell out between tolls and parking and food, but going through that kind of National Lampoon- like vacation with my boyfriend is priceless.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody, and remember ladies, try to believe him when he says he’ll like anything you give him. Does that mean socks? Hopefully not.