Dear Scabby: I’ve been dating my boyfriend for a little over a year now and he’s wondering why I won’t introduce him to my parents. The truth is, I haven’t even told my folks about him because he’s not exactly the “take him home to meet the parents” type. I love him, but I’m not confident that he won’t show up and try to get a farting contest started or get super shitfaced and spit on my dad or something crazy. What should I do? -NERVOUS IN NEBRASKA
Dear Nervous in Nebraska: In some cultures, spitting directly into someone’s face and then farting on them is a sign of respect, translating roughly to, “You have a lovely home,” so while we can’t rule out societal differences, I sympathize with your plight, as I’m also having a hard time taking my boyfriend home to meet my parents, namely because I don’t have a boyfriend and both of my parents are dead.
A housewarming gift never hurts, unless that gift is a gun or archery set. Have your boyfriend present them with a small plant or baked good as a kind gesture. Don’t want to break the bank trying to impress the two people who raised you to date a guy who pukes on strangers? The Whole Foods bakery dumps their day-old goods in a back alley on Broad Street every Wednesday. The bread should still be soft, but if not they make excellent croutons.
If dinner talk lulls or gets tense, steer the conversation towards a neutral topic like politics or race relations so that everyone feels comfortable. Coach your boyfriend to feign interest in your dad’s career by having him ask questions like, “How much money do you make?”
Dear Scabby: It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m single for another year. I’m usually OK with my solo status, but this year I’m feeling kind of lonely. How can I have fun on my own while everyone else is coupled up? -NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER
Dear Not Getting Any Younger: Acting under the advice of my sliding scale psychologist, I took a hiatus from dating other people and began a relationship with myself, ultimately forming a union referred to by various police reports as, “toxic,” “volatile” and “foul-smelling.” Starting a relationship with yourself is a great way to understand your innermost psychology, unless that person is a codependent emotional vampire with an addiction to synthetic marijuana.
Fool even your closest friends and family into thinking you’re fine by using self-deprecating humor to mask your fears of abandonment and inadequacy. Like all comedy legends, I steal most of my material from sandwich board signs, which in my opinion is the highest form of humor. I saw one the other day that read, “I have a Valentine’s date, his name is Gym,” which is a hilarious way to tell people you exercise and also lets them know you came out of your last emotionally abusive relationship fully unscathed.
Feelings aside, everyone knows Valentine’s Day was invented by Hallmark 300 years ago to sell greeting cards and promote movies about unlikely couples making love in quaint New England towns until one of them dies prematurely. No holiday or major life event is safe from these marketing ploys, and that includes death, a phenomenon also invented by Hallmark to sell sympathy cards and angel figurines.
Dear Scabby: I need financial advice. I used a third of my paycheck to get a tattoo and after rent, I have $71 until my next paycheck. What do I do? -CASHLESS IN COLUMBUS
Dear Cashless in Columbus: The cool thing about tattoos is that no one ever regrets them. It’s a permanent accessory that says, “Hey, I’m the toughest barista in this micro roast cafe and I demand respect.” Seventy-one dollars should be more than enough to get you through the week unless you live in one of those bougie soul-dead cities like New York or Indianapolis, in which case I have some suggestions.
Start by asking your friends and family for a handout. Contrary to popular belief, people love being asked for money because it makes them feel needed and elevates their status as breadwinner. In the rare instance they say no or offer you an ultimatum between jail and rehab, you’ll be forced into panhandling, but think of how cool you’ll look asking strangers for food with your new Out of Step tattoo.
If you’ve exhausted all other financial options, I’d be willing to go out on a limb and help you personally with an insane deal I’m offering to my nearest and dearest friends, but it’s only for a limited amount of time, so act now. I’m donating 40 Bitcoin to anyone who sends me .04 BTC to my email [email protected], and an additional .08 BTC to the first 20 who reply. Do not sleep on this. Share or prepare for seven years of bad luck.
Scabby is the self-proclaimed mother of the Richmond, VA hardcore scene (and also a number of illegitimate children who have been trying to get in touch with her via ancestry.com.) She came this close to getting her associates degree in psychology from an online program that was later shut down for reasons we cannot disclose due to an ongoing investigation. Originally named Gabby F., she started going by Scabby after an untreated bed bugs “situation” in her first squat made national news, and is assumed to be anywhere between 50 and 100 years old. She looks forward to answering your most pressing questions and encourages people to push each other mentally, emotionally, and literally. You can contact Scabby at [email protected].