FANTZ: Blue on Black Friday

Dear Christy,

I have to go Black Friday shopping with my new fiance’s mom and sisters. It’s their yearly tradition and they’re heading out at 4 a.m. I hate shopping. Help.

—Girl who just wants to watch football

Blackest Friday:

Yo soy on your side. (Although I don’t think Spanish works that way.)

Unless shopping involves gifts that I get to keep now (none of this wrapping horseshit) and that there is a hearty not-out-of-my-checking-account lunch. And a massage chair that I can sit on for 87 percent of the day. And the mall population is slashed by more than half. And there’s forever whiskey in my neverending cup of coffee.

Fine. I’d rather be watching football too.

However, with your “a thousand times yes,” you are locked into this world wide web of dude fam, which includes — but is not limited to — uncle-in-laws ogling your jublies, you feigning sobriety, still acting a virgin and going shopping with the ladies.

Sorry. It’s the nuts and bolts of his package deal. (Perverts.)

Just hang with the broads for the first part of shopping and lunchtime. Then disappear to “shop for them” in the Best Buy home theater recliners for the rest of the day. (Other options: Sharper Image massage chairs, face down in the gigantic bean bag store, belly up to the attached-to-the-mall chain restaurant’s bar, the Sleep Number store, or the family bathroom to spoon the porcelain.) Just the tip: whiskey in coffee all day, cheeba chews on hand and a pack of cigarettes for you and the mall rats.

Also, make someone else drive, you drunken humiliation.

Dear Christy,

One of my three rules of dating is no snowboarders. Now I just found this great guy who… snowboards. I’m breaking my standards! The reason why I don’t date them is because the snow folk people ditch us regular folk during the entire winter. But I like him a very lot.

—Low Country

High times:

What are your other two rules? Pierced testicles and a braided ass mohawk? (Two sought-after traits coveted by us ladies.)

I get your snow conundrum, because I too avoid the slopes like syphilis — unless I’m riding a fat tube that’s barreling toward skiers, and it’s not your dad. Kidding, mountain fuckers.

Alas, the snow kids like their sport and when the fluff hits, they want to be in the thick of it. We can’t fault them because when sobriety hits, we want to be in the thick of a pile of bars. (I’ll speak for you.)

It’s hard to fault people for likes and dislikes. It’s easy to dispel a dude with character traits you can’t handle, like anger or racism. But with hobbies, you’ve got to work around them.

Follow Christy: twitter.com/fantzypants