Over the years, I have written about various Holidays that we all celebrate in one way or another. Christmas, New Year's Day, Thanksgiving, all are special but none more so than Valentine's Day. The one day a year devoted to Love. A while back I did devote an “Under The Wire” to this special day.

Recently, however, a dark side to this holiday has appeared. Valentine's Day has always required us husbands to visit stores we would never go into any other time to shop for items we might never buy otherwise. Flower shops lead the list with selections of bouquets we know nothing about along with boxes of chocolates, again something unfamiliar to us.

Worse than going into these stores is not going. No husband wants to greet his wife empty handed on the “Day of Love.” Unfortunately this past Valentine's Day found me on that list.

At three in the morning I realized I had forgotten even so much as a card. Panic set in. Regaining my composure I realized Sue would not be up for another three hours, so I could slip off to town and surely find a store open that sold cards, flowers or candy.

Driving through both Brush and Fort Morgan I realized none sold what I needed at that time of the morning. My last possibility was good old Wally World. They sell everything. Around five a.m. I rolled into a parking place near the front door, jumped out of the Chevy full of confidence this was going to work. I hit the automatic opening front doors and made a bee-line for the card isle. Thank God for Walmart, I thought.

As I worked my way through the Valentine section of cards. I heard a gruff voice say, “Who are you?” Assuming he was talking to someone else, I kept reading mushy Valentines. Soon, much closer this time, I heard the question again, “What are you doing” He was about three feet away this time so I told him who I was and what I was doing. He answered with, “How did you get in here?” I started to say, “This is Walmart you #$%^&*, but kept my composure and said “I came through the front door. Why do you care?”

“Because we don’t open until seven a.m. What door did you break down to get in?” he replied.

To make a long story short, my Valentine's Day memory is getting kicked out of Walmart, of all places by a person who obviously had little or no customer service training.

My vindication came when he escorted me to the unlocked automatic door he told me I could not have come through. I had probably met the guy who’s job it was to lock all the doors. I just hope his boss has a video camera to catch it all and my next visit to the worst store in town, as far as I am concerned, will find this rocket scientist moping the men’s restroom. Maybe this will have been a memorable Valentine's Day for both of us!

I have already found a nice little store run by a very nice lady that sells flowers, chocolate and Valentine cards. I’ve been in there several times and she hasn’t thrown me out.

Not all Valentines are created equal!