Valentine’s Day is so hard to navigate, and in college, it’s a whole new battlefield. We found a heterosexual man to give it to us straight — how does he celebrate this love-infested holiday, and what does he suggest?
“Ugh, my head,” begins our Hurricane Spotlight man, rubbing his eyes. He wakes for the first time in the Collegian’s glass enclosure, his temporary home away from home—for the purpose of this interview, that is.
Microphones dot the corners of his tank. He sits in a Collegian chair, its age unknown but its dust a formidable opponent. Blunt force trauma on the side of his head is evident by the blood coagulating in that area, something he, too, notices when he touches the wound and grimaces.
“Where am I?” he asks, voice growing tenser. “What did you do with me?”
A bookshelf sits in the corner. In it, TU yearbooks from the 40s to 70s lie untouched, ready to be opened and studied: the ways of the old just at this man’s fingertips, should he so choose to peruse. Maybe he could find TU alumni Dr. Phil. Maybe.
“Look, I don’t care about your stupid fucking newspaper. Get me out of here.”
His enclosure pounds as he slams his fist against the glass. He has been trying to escape for hours. Where he comes from, is delivering head trauma and locking someone up not how you land a virile beau?
“Obviously not,” he spits out with a glare. “You go on Tinder. Ask out a girl from class. Meet someone at a party.”
There is a pause.
“Wait, do you not know?” he asks. “Is that why you dragged me here? You couldn’t just ask someone?”
Swiftly, the interview continues.
“I don’t know what the fuck you would give to a significant other as a gift. Release me.”
With the hours trickling by, he has become testier. Something rabid shines in his eye, something desperate. But he knows the drill: no answers mean no corn dogs for dinner and no freedom.
So, with a sigh, he says, “Fuck you. There are teddy bears or something, I’m sure. Chocolates? Dinner?”
Where would he get dinner if he were liberated? The answer, like him, is unexpected and daring: Chili’s, for the endless nacho appetizer and those killer chocolate lava cakes as dessert. Yummy!
“Romantic music? What are you even talking about? Look, my family is going to be worried about me. I call them every day, and once they notice I’m gone, they’re going to start looking.” ‘
The burst of electrical shock burns through his veins. A scream escapes his chapped lips. Sweat drips down his forehead.
“Fine, you want an answer? Drake’s pretty good. You listen to that ‘Girls Want Girls’ song by Drake about how if she’s a lesbian, he is too?”
Another shock. He screams again.
“Are you that desperate for content here or something? I haven’t even heard of the Collegian. No one on campus knows you exist or even reads the paper.”
Well, you cannot transmit an electric shock to a guy for being correct. It’s called ethical journalism.
“You want seduction advice from me now? What is wrong with you? Let me go.”
With the promise of water to quench his searing thirst, he reluctantly offers an answer: show your intended sexual conquest all the photos in your gallery—especially the funny ones, like the apache attack helicopter meme. If your Valentine does not laugh, that is their fault. Go back to scrolling Reddit, king.
If you were curious about how to do sex, I am sorry. The interview has abruptly ended.
I was also interested in the whole sex bit, but our designated normal man just escaped our glass enclosure. Go figure. Men, right?
