When the dust finally settles and the city finally shakes off the combined scents of candles, decaying flowers, whipped cream and fornication, all that will remain will be the silent screams of men who failed to deliver, yet again, on the most romantic day of the year.
Those men will be treated to stories of how Helen from Accounts received a bouquet of flowers every two hours until COB. Irene, the intern, had to work from the reception area because her desk was swallowed up by balloons and a teddy bear the size of an Uber. Even Muthoni, the office mum, received a skincare package from her drunk of a husband who everyone knows has not rocked her boat since 2013.