Dear Seeker of Success,
Once again, so-called “Valentine’s Day” is here.
Once again, the Romance Racketeers are rubbing their slimy hands together with rapacious glee.
Once again, let’s check in with the National Retail Federation.
They forecast that this Sunday, the average American sucker will waste $175.41 on candy, flowers, tickets to the ballet, and other desperate supplication.
That’s up $11 from 2021, and it represents the highest projected Valentine’s Day haul for the Romance Racketeers.
And so, the horror story continues…to get worse.
All over, guys hoping to “wow” that special someone are making reservations at swanky restaurants, snagging seventh-row seats at expensive shows, buying diamonds and jewelry and chocolates and roses, and all that rot.
Yes, even in the era of COVID, they’re doing that.
It just might be outdoors… or in a tent.
(That’s right…they’ll go straight down the drain.)
They’re spending extra time at the gym, racing against time trying (and failing) to blast away the remaining holiday pudge in hopes of being in “tip top shape” for the “big date” – the EVENT that’s finally here today.
Who knows, it might pay off.
She might even kiss him on the cheek and coo “Awwwww, how sweet!” when he springs the “big surprise” on her.
WOW. Sounds awesome!
Either way, thing is, she’ll probably want to call it a night around 9 or 10.
After all, tomorrow’s a work day, and she wants to rest up from the afternoon nature hike she enjoyed earlier in the day with her “girlfriends”.
So she’ll send him away with another peck on the cheek and an urge to “call me, please” with a subtle hint that she “might be available” some night this week.
This is how the 14th will go for the Money Man.
Here’s the thing, though.
She’ll be peeking out the window watching for the moment Mr. Chocolates And Roses And Expensive Dinners And Shows drives off into the sunset.
At the taillights’ last gleaming as he speeds off, thinking he’s a “lock” for a hot make out session tomorrow night when she answers the phone tomorrow at 6pm…
…she’ll nibble on one of the chocolates, then pull out her phone, open her dating app, and swipe-right on the man who, within the next 45 minutes or so, will be in her bed, tasting her sweets.
This privileged, skillful gent with money in his pockets is the Honey Man.
The Vaginal Victor On V-Day!
And the best part: he keeps his money AND gets her honey.
Which scenario sounds better to you? (That’s what I thought.)
Oh, and the Money Man’s 6pm call will go to voicemail.
She’ll still be all dreamy about the Honey Man… who might still be in her bed.
Peace and piece,
P.S. Imagine a world where you’ll never have to spend a dime to get a chick in bed again.