Preface: The following words ultimately cannot help you.
My hope is that they provide comfort and solidarity with the millions of men who will simultaneously self-combust on February 14, 2020 by seemingly no fault of their own.
It’s better to be the guys playing the violin as the Titanic goes down than the ones who ricochet off the propeller while the ladies shout for their coats from the comfort of a safety vessel. Not the green one. The beige one. Because it’s “cozier.”
We’re all heading for the same fate, so consider anything short of propeller-induced-brain-explosion on this day a blessing from a God who has spared you for some reason.
With that said, I’ve provided some tips that I’ve acquired over a long and controversial Valentine’s Day career, marred with bad breaks and allegations of using performance-enhancing drugs.
Prix-fix menus can join beard oil in fucking right off forever. Taking your loved one to a restaurant that offers, like, two menu items at a 600% upcharge is a sure fire way to ensure you get screwed on Valentine’s Day without putting a ball gag in your mouth. These menus are as unnecessary as adding an x on the pri for no reason at all. The audacity.
Tip 1: Convince Yourself You’re A Total Fucking Failure Before She Does.
This is a preemptive measure. Like ripping your undies before O’Doyle gives you an atomic wedgie like the weak loser you are. Humiliating, debasing, and trauma-inducing, yes. But also a necessary evil if survival is your goal.
If you—before your tenth consecutive incompetent Valentine’s Day outing—convince yourself that you are nothing more than a shadow who is incapable of feeling human emotion than it will hurt a lot worse when she does. You cannot kill what’s already dead.
It isn’t hard if you just tell yourself the truth: You are half the man she projected you to be when she met you and have come up short of every tangible metric established for you. You are the Ryan Leaf of your relationship, and witnessing you trying to manage a relationship is like watching Hasselhoff manage a cheeseburger.
(It feels dirty to swipe Hoff here, but that cheeseburger had a family and they are the real victims.)
Tip 2: Avoid The Land Mines.
The Valentine’s Day Indifference Test is a weird thing women do where they tell you how they feel and you’re somehow expected to believe the exact opposite.
In any other context, telling a blatant lie to someone’s face and blaming them for taking your word for it would land you in an asylum. On Valentine’s Day, it lands you in a gourmet restaurant with some sucker a pink shirt eating a $42 piece of chicken.
Here is a real world example of this lie playing out in real life:
Every woman on The Bachelor who has claimed they ‘don’t care’ for drama is the woman who reveals to 200 million people that Tammie has irritable bowel syndrome and her mom spent time in prison.
Never underestimate what women will do for one rose, so I suggest getting two dozen shipped to her work so you can surprise her while also letting all her co-workers know that you are considering taking her last name, you unforgivable beta.
P.S. For those unfamiliar with The Bachelor, it’s a reality show with 6.5 hour episodes that my wife makes me to watch with a glass of convenient store wine and my testicles in a cigar box on the shelf. I secretly really enjoy watching it but would never admit that to my friends because I’ve always been too weak to be who I really am.
Tip 3: Phone The Law Offices Of Jim Sokolove.
Everyone has different preferences, but I prefer my divorce attorney to look like he he’s had three of his own.
Sokolove represented my buddy Dale after he took his wife to Red Lobster on Valentine’s Day 2011 and now Dale only has to pay her 75 percent of his net income and can even go to his Nantucket beach house for a weekend in January. This dude is a divorce wizard who will get you what is rightfully yours besides your children and pretty much everything else you deem valuable.
Here is his website. Use PROMO CODE: INCAPABLEOFLOVE at checkout for 5% off and a free Mesothelioma screening.
Thanks for reading and good luck on this death march, men. We had a good run.
And hey, don’t take whatever happens on Friday personally.