Christy Fantz has relationship advice and she’s not afraid to dish it out. Send your questions to email@example.com .
I’m graduating, but my girlfriend still has another year to go. She expects me to stick around Boulder, but I’m sick of hippies. Not really — I am one. OK, I guess I just want to be free, you know? How do I convince her to have a more flexible relationship?
–Mr. Free Love
Trippie: Trust-fund hippie.
Apologies. That was mean.
I meant Yippie: Yuppie-hippie. (You still wash your balls and wear Greek letters. The only real “hippies” left in Boulder live in your Dumpster.)
Sugar tush can’t expect you to remain in Boulder. You just got your princess wings. It’s time to be a rebel and fly off to Louisville.
Now, if you are looking to be “free” from her in the sense of your hands freely roaming another rack — or have a “flexible” relationship in the pants of some other chick, then you are in trouble.
Unless she agrees to have an open relationship, you are not free.
Now, if you’re talking flexibility in the manner of space and movement, then have a talk. There are neat places to explore — like Commerce City and Highlands Ranch. She needs to understand.
After seven years of school and garnering a bachelor’s in parks and rec, it’s time for you to leave Boulder. Post-college is when you embark on a series of drunken one-night stands and experiment with sex toys. (MTV enlightened me at Denver’s Whiskey Bar last night.)
If you want to stay with your lady, Denver is a good compromise. The hike is minimal. If she is doesn’t understand, then beat it (as in leave, pervert). You’re too young to get hitched now.
Oh, and get a job. That trust fund won’t stretch far past that shiny new Beemer.
I got a pretty good summer job, and my boyfriend seems to think he doesn’t need one now. I think he plans to mooch off of me all summer. I love him, he treats me right, but that’s kind of not cool, right? What should I do?
— Sugar Mama
Welcome to a day in the life of Fantz in Your Pants.
I’m a mooch magnet. (Minus my current gentleman lover. He’s a keeper.)
Cigarettes, booze, food. I’m easy prey. (That’s what he said.)
So, here’s my advice: NO!
Don’t do it. You’ll pay for everything. Next thing you know, lack-of-funds panic attacks start crashing on your couch and booze becomes the new Tylenol PM.
But, if you’re feeling ever so pansy-esque, then tell him to at least keep a part-time job to help with some of the expenses (like lube and pretzels).
Plus, then you won’t have to kiss that monthly ass waxing appointment goodbye.