The Upper Hand: Creating Guilt and Gratitude; After Dinner Desserts

Alright, so here’s the idea: I come up with some random fucking advice about handling your girlfriend, you give it the ‘ol college try (less than 26 and two thirds percent effort), you gain the upper hand in your relationship, and then life is awesomer for you. It’s basically a foolproof plan, right? Right. Good. Moving on. What? How am I, Wiltonburg, qualified to give advice about relationships considering that I currently am not in one? I’ll answer your dumbshit question with one of my own? How am I not the MOST qualified person to give advice? Every boyfriend is pussy-whipped to some degree, EVERY SINGLE ONE. “Nah Wil-burg, I’m not whipped at all. I totally wear the pants in the relationship.” Well cockface, if you’re wearing any pants at all, then your relationship clearly isn’t going as well as it could. Shut up, sit down, and learn.

AFTER DINNER DESSERTS
Novice Level

It’s only fair that the first article be of Novice Level. This technique is one that requires no preparation at all. You’ve just been out on a date with your girlfriend, and she wants to go to Dairy Queen for dessert. You hear this and decide that its time to create some unwarranted guilt. You need to convince your girlfriend that agreeing to have an after-dinner snack of ice-cream at Dairy Queen instead of a frosty at Wendy’s is one of the biggest sacrifices you’ve ever made, even though you really don’t care either way. Let the conversation go a little something like this…

GF – I wanna go to Dairy Queen.

You – Yeah, but, um, I was really thinking that a Frosty would hit the spot right now.

GF – Yeah, but I don’t want a Frosty, I want a Blizzard.

You – I don’t even like Blizzards.

GF – You bought one last week, I saw it in your room.

You – Jeff bought it for me. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I ate a few bites before he left.

GF – It was empty when I saw it.

You – Who are you, the ice-cream police?I got really high last night and finished it while watching Super Troopers, is that a crime? It was barely worth it anyway.

GF – Please, pretty please can we get DQ?

You – FINE! If you aren’t going to leave me alone about it, we’ll just go get some damn Blizzards.

GF – Well if you’re going to get all mad about it, then I don’t want it.

You – Nope, you wanted DQ, and you’re my special girl, and we’re going to get you the best fucking Blizzard ever.

GF – Are you sure?

You – Completely sure. Let’s go.

GF – Thank you.

You – Anything for you, babe.

Be sure to remind her of what you have sacrificed to drive her to DQ. Mumble something like “Do they even have anything like a Frosty? Probably not, it’s definitely a super, ultra secret government classified recipe.” Maybe even pretend like you might be lost (which obviously you aren’t because your man-compass is fucking uncanny), and ask rhetorically “how far is this place from campus?” Even if it’s closer than Wendy’s, she won’t say a word because she feels so bad. Once you get to the good ‘ol DQ, just stare at the menu forever while frowning and grumbling. Before your girl starts crying, finally crack and order any one of your many favorite “Cool Treats.” Don’t enjoy it too much. If you’ve been tactful and responsive to your girlfriend’s emotions, she should be feeling pretty damn guilty. Good job. You’re successfully a Novice Level jackass. You were a jackass before, but at least now you have, um…let’s say…the equivalent of a yellow-belt in jackassitude. Congrats.