FYI: Valentine’s Day Is Also Cupid’s Assistant Appreciation Day
Sixty years ago, Cupid decided to give me, his faithful assistant, my very own holiday. When I brought it up the next day after he had finally recovered from a horrendous hangover, he called me a filthy liar.
HR got involved. And after I threatened to leave him, Cupid compromised and gave me my appreciation day on Valentine’s. That night he said I deserved it, before passing out into a muddy puddle in an alley behind Reilly’s Pub. That was a very special moment.
That’s the only time he ever came close to thanking me.
Still, every year, I put a small reminder in his calendar, just in case. But who am I kidding? Cupid doesn’t even read his e-mails, let alone his calendar. That’s my job.
I’ve had the unfortunate chore of being Cupid’s assistant for the last 2,000 years. I was given the name Adiutor, which literally means assistant, in Latin, when I arrived to Earth. Everyone calls me Adi though, except Cupid. He calls me Ass.
I got the job when reports were trickling in about Cupid making people fall in love with goats for fun. I was only supposed to to help him organize his appointments. Now there’s a lot more I have to do for that little gremlin of love.
And all I’m asking for is some appreciation.
On a typical weekday, we fly around doing our “appointments”. But things don’t always work that way. Cupid still likes to go with his gut and make random people fall in love. That’s how people get friend-zoned. And that’s how people still fall in love with goats.
By the end of the day, around lunchtime, I’m forced to hold his bow and sack of arrows, like a caddy. Then I change him into a fresh little toga and massage his wings.
Every Friday, I’m also dragged to be his wing man at hundreds of night clubs around the world. He’s a self proclaimed pickup artist, though I’ve seen him cheat most of the time. On the nights where none of his charm (arrows) work, he ends up crying and asking me to hold him — all night. Even then, he still doesn’t say thank you.
On the weekends, it’s my job to sober him up to make sure his aim is as accurate as possible. Affairs tend to happen when Cupid is hungover.
On top of organizing his appointments and holding his bow and arrows while he dances, I’m forced to reply to his fan-mail, and it isn’t as straightforward as it used to be. Now I have to reply by email, and he’s forced me to personalize each one. He justifies this by charging $25 for each response, which he completely pockets.
Most days I’m also forced to respond to complaints on his behalf, and there are a bunch. Most of them are from the affairs he’s caused, usually when a partner has found out about them, and the others are either from neighbors complaining about Cupid’s loud music, or from restaurants chasing payment for his extortionate tabs.
Then there are the law-suits. At least once a month, Cupid shoots an eye out or pierces someone’s shoulder blade, which he completely leaves me to deal with by flying away. He likes to think he can get away with it by handing them an autographed headshot when they’re medicated at the hospital, but they always sue.
And I’m not even going to get into the blood on his hands, and the thousands of people that have accidentally died doing stupid things for love. All of them which were his idea. I naturally pay the families off. Yet another thing I have to deal with!
Look, I’m not trying to turn you against him. I’m just trying to let you know that he doesn’t work alone, like he lets you believe.
So today, when you’re exchanging cards and possibly going out to enjoy a romantic meal with the love of your life, take a second to think of all the hard work I have put in to make it happen. Oh, and tell your friends about me.
Happy Cupid’s Assistant Appreciation (and Valentine’s) Day!
With love
Adi
