I woke up a little earlier than normal. I sat up and stared at Lona. It was February. Time had flown. Lona had lived with me for almost six months now. We had been dating since . . . Well, that is a point of contention with her. I considered us to have started the night where we first . . . Fully experienced each other. She disagrees. She says that we've been dating since she moved in and I was just, like, totally too thick to realize it. Like, it was totally obvious. She is a ridiculous person, a lot of the time. Still. The bottom line is that we have been dating for a long time. I checked my phone and opened up Reddit. There were some memes about being single forever and some posts about what waifus were the best choice and a couple of . . . Artistic depictions of their favorite waifu in some vague Valentine's Day lingerie.

Valentine's Day! Shit! I forgot about Valentine's Day! I've never had a girlfriend on Valentine's Day before. What do I do? What can I do? Dinner? Chocolates? Wait. Fuck. She's a ghost! She can't eat! Damn it! Fuck! What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? My mind started racing. I thought of all of the possibilities. Not for the first time, I lamented the fact that Lona was a ghost. Most of the time it is not really that bad. But there is so much of dating that is cooking and preparing food and eating. Almost like the living need that to live, or something. So, it really limited my ideas. I got out of bed with my phone and walked out of the room, Googling for Valentine's Day ideas. But like 65% of them had to do with food and making dinner and the remaining 35% were . . . Well, I did not really like them. As a last resort, I texted her.

Karen

You: Hey, I need some advice. Let me know when you can talk, please.

K: Advice you say? I dont hav much xp with 🍆. xcept u but dat dont count.

While I was reading her response, she called me. I answered immediately, hoping to be quiet enough to not wake Lona. “Hey, why are you up? It's five am.”

“Haven't gone to bed, yet. Raid night ran longer than I expected,” Karen said, yawning. “What's up, Buttercup?”

“It's almost Valentine's Day!” I said, my voice rising more than I had intended it to.

“Oh, you remembered. But I'm not getting you anything. You already have the pleasure of knowing me.” Karen said dryly.

“Fuck off. I need help. I don't know what to do. I can't take her to dinner and get her some chocolates! I don't know what I want to do,” I responded, annoyed.

“Oh. That is a pickle, ain't it? Fuck.” Karen thought for a moment, clicking her tongue. “I got it!”

“What? What is it? I'll do anything!” I said, desperately.

“Here's what you need to do. You find a medium she can possess. You start making a pot and she sits behind you, in the medium's body and she helps you make the pot until you make out with the medium and her at the same time. It'd be a cute threesome.”

“You realize you're the only other medium I know. And you basically just suggested making out with me, right?”

“Ugh! Gross!” Karen said, disgust apparent in her tone. “Okay, we need a new plan.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

“Well, keep it simple. Take her to a movie, cuddle up to her, buy her some flowers. It's not complicated, numb-nuts,” Karen responded as though that was the simplest thing in the world.

“Hmm. Isn't that too basic?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you're a basic bitch. And so is she. Fucking straight people wouldn't know anything without us gays.”

“And you wouldn't exist without us straights making you,” I responded in the same dry tone.

“Yeah, so you owe us double. We help you out even though you force us to toil in this hellscape you've crafted.”

“That's fair. And good advice. I think I have an idea.”

“Let me hear it, I want to laugh at you if it's stupid. Well, I just want to laugh at you regardless.”

“Well, I could buy her a dress and take her out to a play. Do the flowers. It's a step up from just a movie, which we could do any time and she'd get to be out and see a play.”

“Oh, that's actually really good. Damn it. Now I have to wait three minutes before you do something stupid so I can laugh at you,” Karen responded, tone dripping with sarcasm. “She'd also be seen by people. She digs that. It . . . It must be lonely, being a ghost. Only talking to a few people.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Karen.”

“No prob, dickless,” She said, smiling. “Talk to you later. I need to sleep. I work in . . . Four hours. Fuck.”

I spent the next couple of days collecting everything I would need. The great thing about having a girlfriend who is also a sex doll is that if you ever need to buy her clothes, all of her measurements are written down somewhere. Made dress-buying a cinch. I got her a nice green thing with an open back and a deep neckline. It was somewhere between the green of her eyes and the green of the doll's eyes. I also got her a pair of shoes that were open toe, some stockings (because I needed something out of this), and a nice looking coat that I thought would go with the dress. And I also managed to get tickets to a well-received play. I had never heard of it, but I could list all of the plays that I knew off the top of my head on one hand with three fingers missing. Disney on Ice and Hedda Gabler. Oddly enough, it was another play about an actor dying. It was not incredibly romantic, but then again, Neither am I. But it should be fun, regardless.

I also broke out my tuxedo. It was a little worn and did not quite fit well everywhere anymore, but it would do for the night. I polished the shoes and made myself look as presentable as I ever could be, but I knew that everyone would be staring at Lona. That was the point of the dress. I did not tell her we were doing any of this until a few hours before the play. I just pretended it was any other Sunday. Watched a few cartoons. Did not acknowledge the day. Lona did not say anything either. But she kept giving me sidelong looks all day. I would just smile and pull her in for a hug. I set out her dress and shoes on the bed after a while, pretending to use the restroom. When I got back, she was staring at me.

“John, do you know what today is?” She asked, fidgeting.

“Uh, Sunday,” I said, pretending to consider it for a moment.

“Y-yes, it's Sunday.” She said carefully. “A particular Sunday.”

“Oh. Is it?” I asked. “Hmm. I don't think so. You should go in the room and check the calendar I have in there.”

“It's Valen-” She began.

“Go in and check the calendar, Lona,” I interrupted, trying to suppress a smile.

“I don't want to check your weird waifu calend-” Lona stopped for a moment. “In the room? The calendar in the room?”

“Uh-huh. I don't think it's a special day. But check the calendar to be sure. The calendar in the room. Not your phone,” I said, watching her. She disappeared. After a moment I heard her scream and then something clatter to the floor. I rushed into the room. She had picked up the dress and was hugging it to her. Her shoes had fallen to the floor.

“John! You remembered! Thank God! I was going to kill you! Our first Valentine's Day and I thought you forgot! Of course you didn't! You're the best!” She squealed with happiness and spun with the dress. She held it out and admired it. Then she froze. “Uh . . . John?”

“Hmm?”

“This is a little too big . . . It wouldn't fit me.”

“It'll fit you. Just not you,” I said, emphasizing the last word. It took her a moment. She darted down to her doll and compared it and grinned.

“Oh! That makes sense. I can just change my clothes whenever I like! It's for the doll.” She laughed at herself. I shook my head, smiling.

“Go on, get ready. I've given us a couple of hours but I don't want to be late.”

“Late? Late for what?” She flew over to me and considered for a moment. I held up the tickets to the play. She snatched them out of my hand like a greedy child and read them. “Drop Dead!? I've never heard of it.”

“I hadn't either. I think it came out after . . . You know.” Lona looked at me and grinned. She hugged me tightly.

“Thank you, John. I love it!”

“Go on, get ready.”

She sped off and started getting ready. I also got ready. It took me a while. I had to look up how to do a bow-tie. And after trying several times, Lona had to tie it for me. She redid the doll's makeup and looked amazing. The type of dress that I had chosen for her did not really allow her to wear a bra, which was not a conscious decision on my part, so when she bent over to do her shoes I got an eye-full. Jesus. What is she doing with me? She did her hair up and put on her coat and smiled at her. The doll's face had become a lot more . . . Accepting of her expressions. I do not know if it was just time or if it was my imagination, but her smile looked like Lona to me. Not some weird silicon monstrosity stretching itself uncomfortably. Definitely not quite like the Edgar suit it had started out as. She walked more naturally and I took her arm. I set up my phone to take a picture of this. It was not every day that I dressed up. Or had a gorgeous woman on my arm. I sent it to Lona (so that she would have a copy), Karen, and my mom. I set it as the background for my phone, replacing the default that I had left there out of apathy for months.

So, I do not go to a lot of plays. I have only really seen people go to plays on TV or in the movies. I thought everyone dressed up fancy to go to every play. This is not the case. Lona laughed at me so hard when we arrived, because we were dressed up for a ball, and everyone else was dressed up for a ballgame. Men wore polos and jeans or maybe slacks if they were feeling spicy. Women dressed in skirts or pants and blouses and everyone looked like we could be anywhere. I felt my face flush and I tried to hide it. But everyone's eyes were certainly on Lona. Especially as she pointed and laughed at me.

“Oh my god, John! This is, like, so funny!” She said very loudly.

“I . . . I didn't know. I've never . . . I never went to a play before,” I muttered, leaning into her. I am fairly certain that my head was the color of emergency signals and radioactive tomatoes.

“It's okay, Jizzle. You're too cute.” She continued to giggle at me and wrapped her arms around me. I tried to focus on her and not the people laughing at me. The play itself was pretty good. It had a play inside of a play and two people die. I would recommend it. Apparently, word had gotten out about us, because after the play was over, we were invited to meet the cast. It was a little awkward. I had to translate for Lona to them. But they were all nice. They were laughing at me. We got another couple of pictures with the cast and the director and us. And my face was only 75% as red as a radioactive tomato. So there is that.

We got home a little later than I would have liked, considering I had work the next day, but it was fun. I did not get a lot of sleep that night. Lona was very excited and decided to let me experience her new dress' fabric by letting me move it to the side for a while. We were up for hours longer, alternating between using the doll and her just slipping into something a little more comfortable. Herself. My first Valentine's Day with an actual date was the best.

After I collapsed from exhaustion, Lona must have decided to decorate the house with the flowers I got her. I woke up to roses in little cups everywhere. Which meant that I had to drink my coffee out of a mason jar, but it did liven up the place a little bit.