The roots of Sweetest Day can be traced
back to the early 1900’s in a burgeoning town situated along the
US-Canadian border. According to legend, a man by the name of Sava Ho
was head over heels for a young woman many locals hailed as one of
the most beautiful in town. Sava, a captain in the Coast Guard at the
time, had no trouble attracting the woman’s attention. Capturing
her undivided affection, however, was another story.

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Some might say he was the poster boy
for chivalry. And when it came to courting his beloved, Sava
spared no expense. Top of the line home furnishings. Fully stocked
pantry. The fanciest sweaters and corduroy pants for all six of her
children. Try as he may, it just wasn’t enough. There were always
rumors. Whispering throughout the neighborhood about the pampered damsel who was both unsatisfied
and unfaithful to the man who held her down for so long.

Until one day, a fed up Sava groveled
to his lady, “What’s it gonna take, huh? What else do I have to do to
prove I love you? For you to show me the same kinda affection back? Give
you my heart on a platter?!”

“Yes,” she replied coldly. Hips
shifted, armed crossed, lips curled. An imposing stance passed down
through generations of African American women.

Sava cracked a grin, but she didn’t,
and that’s when he realized she was dead serious. So like a saddened
puppy with his tail coddled between his legs, he softly scurried out of her
presence. Wholly defeated. The next time he saw her, 20 minutes
later, he took a few moments to savor the sweet taste of horror
plastered on her foundation-smeared face. She couldn’t believe her
eyes. Shocked to see her man standing there with a dinner saucer in
both blood-soaked hands … a gaping hole in his chest. He trembled
from head to toe before collapsing to the floor.

The woman looked down to find none
other than a human heart at her feet, covered in bodily splooge, faintly beating as the man it
was so savagely extracted from lay dead just mere inches away.

“OMG,” she managed through
quivering lips, “that is so sweet.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the
door. The woman wiped a fledgling tear from her eye and leaped up from
the couch, mistakenly stomping the lifeless organ at her feet with a carpet-staining SPLAT. 

“Shit!” She made a mess of this situation, but Tyrone was at the
door. And with Captain Sava Ho out of the picture, the time to start scouting prospective sponsors had cum.

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No shit, I used to think Sweetest Day
was as bogus as that damn story I just came up with. Some shit females in Detroit made up to get over on niggas. Like they didn’t
hit a big enough lick on Valentine’s Day. SMH. Thirsty bitches. Cause for the longest it
was something that only people from the D knew about. I’d bring it up in
conversation with people from other states and they’d look at me like
I’m crazy. I couldn’t help feeling like a simp for falling for this annual rouse. It wasn’t until my mid-20’s that I finally ran into some
people outside of Detroit who actually heard of it, so maybe it’s a
Midwest thing. I don’t know. 

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Here we are. Another damn day designed to keep aspiring captains
humble until X-mas rolls around and completely breaks you with that long, slow holiday dickin’.
Whateva. Happy Sweetest Day suckas!  

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