Cry Me a Cockroach: Anti-Valentine’s Day Taking Off

For a $15 donation, your ex’s name will feature on the zoo’s cockroach naming board.
Cry Me a Cockroach: Anti-Valentine’s Day Taking Off
Valentine's Day balloon are displayed inside a florist as Sydneysiders prepare for Valentine's Day in Sydney, Australia, on Feb. 12, 2014. (Brendon Thorne/Getty Images)
Nicole James
1/31/2024
Updated:
1/31/2024
0:00
Commentary

Valentine’s Day wasn’t always a saccharine tsunami of roses and chocolates. Its origins date back to ancient Rome where priests sacrificed goats and dogs. A bit of a leap from Hallmark, wouldn’t you say?

Young ancient Romans would frolic about, using the animal skins to give crops and women a good old whack, all in the name of fertility. Nothing says romance like a dead goat, after all.

The shindig wrapped up with an ancient matchmaking lottery—single women tossing their names into an urn, hoping to be paired off with Rome’s most eligible bachelors.

Then there’s the headless hero, St Valentinus. Off with his head, and lo and behold, he’s a martyr, celebrated each February.

Initially, this had as much to do with love as a crab has to do with an electric car.

That is, until English poet Geoffrey Chaucer created a link between St Valentinus celebrations and the bird-mating season. This led English nobles to start scribbling love notes during bird-mating season, eventually turning Feb. 14 into a day for romantic epistles.

Come the 21st century and we enter the gloriously spiteful world of Anti-Valentine’s Day, a concept as sour as a democrat in a coalmine.

Mid-19th century’s “Vinegar Valentines” were the talk of the town, spewing insults faster than a Texan border crossing. These cards targeted everyone from the over-imbibers to the seriously snooty, from lovesick puppies to every profession under the sun.

Tired of Chummy Romance?

Urban Dictionary tells us Anti-Valentine’s Day is for those who'd rather eat glass than celebrate traditional Valentine’s. Celebrated on Feb. 15, it’s the perfect antidote to all that mushy stuff—a day to revel in the joy of not being joyously in love.

And for the cherry on top, some charities have ingeniously crafted anti-Valentine’s gifts for your ex.

Nothing says “I’m over you” quite like Brookfield Zoo’s Name-A-Roach program. For a $15 donation, your ex’s name will feature on the zoo’s cockroach naming board and you’ll get an official certificate.

Officials say only the first names of the individual(s) you list will be posted. The board will be unveiled at the zoo on the morning of Feb. 14, and photos will be posted on Brookfield Zoo’s social media channels.

They’re not the only zoo you can support. The San Antonio Zoo has really upped the ante this year with the “Cry Me a Cockroach” fundraiser. Scorned lovers can name a roach, rat, or even a veggie (because, you know, vegans need revenge too) after their less-than-beloved ex.

The zoo then promises to feed your named creature to one of their resident animals. And they’ll also throw in a candle that smells like hippo dung. Why? Apparently it attracts suitors of the wild animal kind.

Not to be outdone, the Bronx Zoo offers the chance to name a Madagascar hissing cockroach after your ex for $15. These bugs measure a whopping four inches. And for an extra 20 bucks, you can have a virtual encounter with your named roach and a surprise animal guest. They even have roach-themed socks and plushies for sale.

Over in Rhode Island, the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals is joining the anti-Valentine’s fray with their “Love Stinks” campaign. For the bargain price of $5, they’ll let a cat urinate on a card bearing your ex’s name.

And for those nursing a broken heart, Chicago’s West Loop hosts the Bad Blood Pop-Up Bar, a Taylor Swift-themed haven. With tickets at $22, Swifties can drown their sorrows in Taylor-inspired cocktails, belt out her hits, and even dabble in a bit of tarot reading.

The catch? The bar isn’t officially affiliated with Swift herself—but who cares when you’re sobbing into your “Shake It Off” martini?

Brisbane’s Cakes & [Expletive] can bake you a cake emblazoned with “[expletive] love,” or a seemingly innocent white-iced cake that bleeds raspberry coulis when cut—a true culinary stab to the heart.

In South Korea, anti-Valentine’s day is known as Black Day. This noodle-fuelled day is about eating any food dipped in darkness with the favourite of this sorrowful soiree being jajangmyeon. It’s noodles drenched in a thick, sweet, and savoury sauce made from black soybean paste.

Wash it down with endless pots of black coffee, as bitter as the sting of unrequited love.

And for the Aussies, who might find themselves a tad far from Seoul’s sombre shindigs, swap out the jajangmyeon for a good ol' Vegemite sandwich.

So if you thought Valentine’s Day was all about love and roses, think again. There’s a whole world of anti-Valentine’s revelry out there, perfect for those who prefer their romance with a side of revenge.

Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.
Nicole James is a freelance journalist for The Epoch Times based in Australia. She is an award-winning short story writer, journalist, columnist, and editor. Her work has appeared in newspapers including The Sydney Morning Herald, Sun-Herald, The Australian, the Sunday Times, and the Sunday Telegraph. She holds a BA Communications majoring in journalism and two post graduate degrees, one in creative writing.
Related Topics