Please welcome to the Cru Jones Society, the beautfiul, talented, highly acerbic, Redhead herself, Ms. Erika Napoletano. Please give her lots of love in the comments section, and do yourself a favor by checking out all of her excellent work which she lists at the bottom of this post.

Jesus Christ – is it really Valentine’s Day again?

I hate Valentine’s Day. Haaaaaates it, preeeeecious. In my humble opinion, it’s the most ridiculous pseudo-holiday in existence (right behind Administrative Assistant’s Day… seriously). We clamor for dinner reservations and bitch, whine, moan and complain when our true-love-du-jour fails to deliver the one thing we so desperately wanted (which is inevitably the one thing we never told them we wanted but expected them to read our minds and figure out). In all honesty, V-Day is nothing more than a clearance sale for Christmas under a different name. Sure, the candy’s all heart-shaped, but the wrapping paper is still red. There’s still a chubby superhero mascot, but instead of an old fat guy who likes to play with midgets, it’s a violent cherub toting a bow and arrow. Yeah, yeah, we know “love hurts,” but do you really have to shoot me in the ass each year and remind me?

So guys, sit down. The Redhead speaks. We all know Valentine’s Day is ridiculous. I’m going to give you eight girl-proof tips for avoiding coming off as a total douchebag to your sweetie. Not everyone will approve of my tactics and it’s possible I’m going to pioneer reverse misogyny, but fuck it. I’m tired of the whiny broads that make the rest of us look bad. This one’s for you, guys.

Fuck the Flowers
At Valentine’s Day, flowers are overpriced. I understand the whole supply-and-demand angle that drives a $9.99 bouquet to $79 in the span of a week. Wait – no, I don’t. It’s shitty business sense to buy your girl roses for such an inflated price. Fine – it may not matter to some of you so go ahead and call whomever and get that deliver scheduled. Me? If I were a dude [glances at chest – nope. Still titillated!], I could rationalize $79 for $9.99 roses if they came with a pay-per-view pass for wrestling or UFC, but alas, they don’t. Additionally, flowers DIE. “Hey, honey – I got you something that’s going to die and reek in a week.” So fuck the Valentine’s Day long-stemmed roses horror (and if I catch you paying $30 for a wad of carnations instead, I’ll kick you in the nuts). 

Pro Tip: A single long-stemmed rose. Grocery stores, florists…you can find one of these places on your way to anywhere. Grab one. $10 tops, It’s not about being cheap – it’s about pragmatism.

The Meal Deal (aka Reservations)
Some guys are better with making reservations for dinner than others. My guy? Fair to sunny. I have to give him kudos for that. Reservations for Valentine’s Day dinner is an entirely different ballgame, thought. Every turd and herd crawls out of the woodwork to grub on an overpriced meal each year on February 14th – and yeah, you’re joining the herd. Getting a reservation can be a complete cluster. Restaurants that never accept reservations all year long – suddenly you need a reservation. And then there are “seating times,” which means some locations only offer two or three time slots for dinner throughout the night (like a 6pm, 7:30pm and 9pm). And yes, that usually means you’re hosed with early or late. You could call three of four restaurants and come up with nil because every dude with less testosterone than you made a reservation three months ago (douchebag). And I know it sounds frustrating, but NEVER try to go anywhere on Valentine’s Day without a reservation. You’ll look like a chump, she’ll send you a “you’re fucking kidding me, right?” look and you’ll be jerking-off in the bathroom since she closed the cookie jar on the most romantic day of the year.

Pro Tip: Avoid the angst. Ask your girl to make the dinner reservations. Chicks love this shit. Now, to avoid the appearance that you’re pawning this undesirable task off on her (which you are), try something like this: “Honey, I’d love to take you out for dinner on Valentine’s Day. You’re always so good with finding cool, new places to eat. How about you surprise me with reservations somewhere and let me know the time and I’ll take care of everything else for the evening?”

Pro Tip Part 2:
If she whines about making the reservations, get her a gift certificate to Taco Bell and tell her she had her chance.

Forget the Cop-Out Gift
You spaced Valentine’s Day. Or rather, you forgot about it until you showed up at the office and saw women running around squealing about floral deliveries or bitching about their guy forgetting the “holiday.” Nice work – you’re not alone. What you’re NOT going to do is panic. We know it’s a stupid holiday, you know you’re potentially hosed. What you’re NOT going to do is swing by the drugstore and get one of those carnival prize-looking bears holding a box of ass candy that not even your fraternity brothers would eat. It reeks “I fucked up” and worse, it reeks of you’re girl thinking the irrational thought, “You don’t love me enough to buy me something other than a stupid bear holding a box of candy.” The bear is priming you for another jerking-off in the bathroom episode. Don’t to it.

Pro Tip: It’s time to call in the experts. Think of something your girl would like – an iPod Shuffle or Nano, a new cell phone, a massage. Just think, for all that’s holy! There’s a Best Buy on every corner, a Massage Envy that’s ready to print-up a massage gift card for chumps like you, or a cell phone store within a 5-mile radius of your office. Get the goods (and with Best Buy, you can even Buy online and having it waiting for you to pick up at the store when you’re blazing home from work like a lab rat on meth). Remember that single long-stemmed rose you already picked up? Yeah, it’s designed to go with the Hail Mary Thoughtful Gift.

The Candy Trap
Every girl thinks her ass is fat, so why on earth would you give her candy? In the worst-case scenario, she’ll eat it and blame you for contributing to her fat ass (though in your eyes, it’s a spectacular ass). Women have no sense of logic when self-evaluating their ass. It’s why we ask our girlfriends if our ass looks OK in something – we can’t tell! Best-case scenario? You’re going to end up eating the candy and get a fatter ass yourself or the dog is going to get into it and shit itself silly. Awesome.

Pro Tip: Skip the candy. Aside from being overpriced and asstastic tasting, it’s a lose/lose scenario. Get her a VISA or AmEx gift card for $25, slip it in her purse and give her a little note that says, “Instead of candy, here’s some shopping candy. Love you…Bob.” Note: sign YOUR name, unless your name is Bob.

Thy Name is Broke
There’s ne’er a gal who will accept “broke” as an excuse for skipping the stupid V-Day gift. We are collectively an unsympathetic breed (The Redhead excluded). Me? I understand your broke ass. Sometimes money is tight and it always seems to happen around the holidays, right? If you’ve got a girl more interested in bling than the “thing” you two share, maybe it’s time to look for another gal. However, if you’re not ready to trade your 36 in on two 18’s, there are ways to deliver in style without spending anything more than time.

Pro Tip: Don’t spend a dime. Here’s a list of cool shit you can do for your girl without ass-raping your bank account:

  • Home Improvement: fix something, clean something, organize something. Pick up all the dog shit in the backyard.
  • Auto Improvement: wash and detail her car.
  • Self-Improvement: back rubs, foot massages…yeah, we love ‘em. Make her a coupon book filled with your time (and don’t be a dick when she redeems a coupon…expiration dates are equally dickish).
  • Free Date Day: take her hiking, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing or to the museum’s free exhibit. Get out and keep your money in your wallet.

The bottom line is that there’s a rescue for every V-Day scenario. If you plan, you’re screwed. If you don’t plan, you’re screwed. This year, perhaps The Redhead’s guide to avoiding douchebaggery can keep you from fucking up. All I want is to see you getting laid on February 14th. With someone. Yeah – celebrate with someone other than Rosy Palm and her five sisters this Valentine’s Day. And if all else fails, invite Rosy to dinner. You’ll be able to order whatever you want, she’ll help you eat, and later – you’re guaranteed to get off.

 

About Your Guest Blogger

Erika Napoletano is a prolific user of the f-bomb and hash tag abuser currently enrolled in a 10-step program because she can’t commit to 12. Her cycling and climbing gear currently outnumbers her ex-husbands (to-date). If you’ve got the stomach for an overdose of purpose-driven snark, you can follow RedheadWriting on Twitter and check out her Bitch Slaps at RedheadWriting.com. For those with a taste for unpopular views, you’re highly encouraged to check out her weekly op ed column at ToyWithMe.com (you can also follow her alter ego Dear Redhead on Twitter). Uber stalkers can fan Redhead Writing on Facebook. C’mon – stalk her. You know you wanna. Erika currently resides in Denver, Colorado and has 2 cats (Peter and Moto) and two dogs (Big Dog and Small Dog). Small Dog eats panties.