As a public service, Jack Knox is relinquishing today’s column space to Times 91原创 relationship expert Dr. Romance, here to answer readers’ questions on Valentine’s Day.
Dear Dr. Romance: She called me “emotionally unavailable.” What does that mean?
Nonplussed in Nanaimo
Remember that pang in your gut when the Kelce brothers, the ones on opposing teams, hugged after Sunday’s Super Bowl? That wasn’t just the hot wings talking. It’s what is known as an emotion. You might have also had one when Chrysler stopped making the Slant Six.
If it happens to you again, don’t worry. It will pass, though not as well as Patrick Mahomes.
Dear Dr. Romance: So, one day she interrupts me and goes: “Wait, are you really trying to tell me how mansplaining works?”
“Yes,” I reply. “Do you need me to talk slower?” (Some guys wouldn’t bother, but I’m generous that way.)
I thought she would be grateful, but instead she gets all huffy like that time I accidentally slept with her best friend. What gives?
Sensitive in Saanich
Maybe it would help if you explained it to her again.
Dear Dr. Romance: Starbucks just named its Wharf Street coffeeshop as one of its four most romantic locations in Canada. Maybe so, but they still can’t spell your name on the cup. Even after I smooth-talked the gal while ordering today, mine read Creepy Dude. Doesn’t even sound the same! Explain that.
Don Juan de Fuca
You must have dazzled her deaf.
Dear Dr. Romance: This morning my girlfriend smiled coyly and said “It’s Feb. 14. You know what that means.”
“You bet!” I replied. “Tampa Bay’s playing Colorado and the boys are coming over to watch. Want to make us some chicken wings? Except not as hot as the ones you did for Super Bowl.”
I thought she would appreciate the advice, but instead she stomped off, said she was going to Starbucks. Does that make sense?
Confused in Colwood
No, Starbucks doesn’t sell chicken.
Dear Dr. Romance: Greater Chicktoria has at least 13,000 more unattached women than unattached men. What’s harder to find: A) a decent guy, B) a house for under $1 million, C) lettuce for less than $5, D) parking at Clover Point?
Lonely in Langford
E) a family doctor
Dear Dr. Romance: She dropped a hint: “Open Table just listed the 100 most romantic dining experiences in Canada, and six are from around here — Glo, Finn’s, Vista 18, Zambri’s, Alpina at the Villa Eyrie and tea at the Empress.”
“Actually,” I replied, “I thought it would be nice to have a romantic dinner at home: cheese soufflé with apple, walnut and pomegranate salad to start, followed by grilled prawns and poutargue risotto, then a chocolate and Cointreau pudding.”
“That sounds fantastic,” she beamed.
“Great,” I replied. “While you whip that up, I’ll watch Tampa and Colorado.”
Next thing you know, she’s crying on the couch, eating ice cream straight out of the tub.
“You should change your name to Victoria,” I said, “because it looks like you’re working on your missing middle.”
A good line, but she just started sobbing harder.
Why don’t women have a sense of humour?
Funny in Fernwood
Dunno. Must be genetic.
Dear Dr. Romance: She surprised me with a bottle of wine, so I tried to recover by fishing a Starbucks card out of my wallet. “There should be $5.37 on there,” I said. “Try the one on Wharf Street. Get me an Americano while you’re at it.”
She frowned. “You didn’t get me chocolates?”
I fixed her with a stern look: “There’s a dark side (as it were) to chocolate. Indeed, Camosun College just issued a press release about deforestation and the use of child labour in the poverty-stricken countries where most cacao is grown.”
I thought this sounded reasonable, but she shot me down like a Chinese spy balloon: “So what you’re saying is you forgot it’s Valentine’s Day.”
What do I do now?
Busted on Burnside
Try saying this with a straight face: “No, a donation in your name has been made to….”
Dear Dr. Romance: She pulls a couple of knives out of the cutlery drawer, sees they’ve still got peanut butter on them, and says: “Don’t you even look when you put them away?”
Except then it dawns on both of us that it was she, not I, who emptied the dishwasher. “This is the best day of my life!” I blurt out, and start doing a happy dance in the middle of the kitchen. Does this make me a bad person?
Gloating on Glanford
No, it makes you emotionally available.
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