Lament for a Stat Holiday

At the moment I'm not quite convinced that BC Day isn't just another Valentine's Day, except more insidious in its subtlety. Here is a holiday specifically primed to let you spend time with friends and lovers, and so for a friendless, loveless sap like me, two BC Days in a row have passed with fuck-all for me to do, fun-wise.
Last year, I was working in a cafe on Government street, squarely in the middle of the biggest tourist area of Victoria, and my managers decided that having a massive free concert a few blocks down the street wouldn't generate too much foot traffic and that it was a great idea to take the day off. Of course, they were right, the shift passed uneventfully, and I even got a cute guy's number.

Nah, I'm kidding. We were swamped beyond swamped, fantastically understaffed, and I may have thrown money at more than a few ignorant customers in moments of pure frustration and horror. It was endless people, swarms of bodies clamoring for hot chocolates and sandwiches, and the stress of lineups out the door was doubled when I realized that each and every one of these people was going to have far more fun today than I would get to have all week. Hell, they even got to eat dinner, unlike me. At the end of the night, I slumped back home on the bus, surrounded by revelers who had just seen Feist and were mostly drunk off their gourds. Cute girls with flat stomachs and short shorts flirted with surfer boys holding water bottles full of vodka, and I, in espresso-stained Converses and a sweat-soaked black top, was the audience to this absurdly attractive mating ritual. I put on my ipod and tried not to cry too obviously.

This year, I find myself in a state of self-exile from Victoria due to having absolutely nobody to hang out with there. My friends have gone home, mostly, and the ones I did hang out with regularly are either busy or have broken up with me--not that I'm bitter, but it makes for a bit of a lonely existence. I've been living with my parents in Parksville, and today we went to a provincial park in the hope of taking a nice hike in the woods. By the river were endless families, some with young children and dogs, all having fun in the water. A large group of teens cliff-jumped, girls in bikinis sunned themselves, and, once again, absolutely everyone else seemed to have far more fun than I.

I write this not to complain, for I know that there are steps I could take to counter my situation. I accept where I am for the day, but it causes me to wonder if I'll ever enjoy a statuatory holiday like BC Day. It's all very well and good if you have people to go to the river with, see the awesome free concert with, or bombard the hapless barista with; it's wonderful when you have pals to drink with, to enjoy a summer BBQ with. But with none of those things, BC Day does become another Valentine's Day, that dreaded moment in late winter when those of us who are alone come to the awful realization that there are more attractive people out there who are having a lot more fun. Except that there aren't as many foil-covered chocolates to gorge oneself on in early August.