At a party last weekend, a young man came out onto his balcony, which overlooked everyone, and held a condom above his head. He then loudly asked who wanted to have sex with him. There were no takers.

Well, it was a whole different matter when he came down and started approaching girls individually. He would saunter up to them with a grin, show them the condom and ask if they wanted to come inside his house with him. It took no time at all to find a willing accomplice, a fairly normal-looking girl, not visibly skanky at all. All she did was shrug, say “Why not?” and off they went.

Thus starts my Valentine’s Day advice column concerning activities.

There’s been other such advice columns already, so let’s recap the suggestions so far: First came the column written by Dara Moss (“Valentine’s Alternatives for the Lovelorn or Heartbroken,” Daily Nexus, Feb. 10), in which she implores us to “Have fun!”. Moss proposes the day be renamed to “National Singles Appreciation Day” and should be spent doing such things as hiking, handing out candy, gambling at Chumash Casino, being with friends and so forth. I have met Moss, and she is good people, so her ideas have my total support.

But I don’t speak for everyone! “Scrap this Singles Awareness Day bullshit,” Kate Rice fires back the next day (“Nice Shoes, Wanna Fuck?”, Daily Nexus, Feb. 11). Did I hear someone say catfight – just kidding ladies!

Rice’s arguments against Moss are fierce. For example, there will be no candy-buying from her, no sir. She can’t be bothered to spend “hundreds of dollars … on candies” to feed into this “mindless consumerism.” Zzzzing! Rice suggests sex instead, whether with those you know or complete strangers. She even one-ups Moss in coming up with replacement names, suggesting new ones like “National Get Laid Day” and “Hey Baby, Let’s Go Hit That Shit Day.”

Personally, I’m on your side, Dara, but in a university people have nicknamed the University of Casual Sex and Beer, copulation probably packs more punch with the masses. Do I want any beef with the Hump lady? No, I do not. This girl writes about naked people every week. What if she wrote about me being naked? That would be embarrassing.

So to sidestep this ongoing skirmish, I’m not going to rename the holiday and will keep calling it Valentine’s Day, named for that ancient Casanova St. Valentine, who romantically lived out his final years behind bars in a Roman jail. He died cold, in the dark and with a large gruff cellmate known only as Action Jackson.

Anyway, I am willing to bet every paycheck I will ever earn that a girl can walk down the street saying Rice’s suggested “get laid” lines and she will get her wish. She will find a guy who will want to go “hit that shit.” But what about the fellas?

Okay, so we’ve already got the example I started with. It’s a slight variation on what Ms. Rice was recommending people try. I can’t do it – I’m too damn classy and shy – but guys ready to get slapped – if girls still do that to rude guys – can give it a shot.

But what if you don’t have the cajones for that, but are still slightly sleazy and have lots of money to burn? Once again, I don’t fit in this category, but for those that do I have three words: mail order bride. If you act now, I guarantee you will be able to buy one, get her a plane ticket and fly her over in time for Saturday night. Sure, she’ll be jetlagged, ignorant of the English language and legally bound to you, but I didn’t say we were going to be choosy here.

For those with the smaller bankrolls, there are other options. If you’re into really loud music or drunken people, you could hit up one of the clubs or the Del Playa parties, since weekends that contain holidays always bring crowds. Drinking alone or numbing your emotions with drugs are also viable options.

Well, there you have it. The trilogy of Valentine’s advice columns is complete and I shall now retreat back into my lair, where I shall spend Saturday night eating nachos and watching 1940s detective movies with my fish.

Daily Nexus staff writer Drew Atkins expects big, romantic things from that fish of his.

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