Normally I would complain about having to spend Valentine’s Day in Austin, Texas, with the likes of Tucker Max. But considering he's helping me prepare my book for publishing, it's the best Valentine's ever.

Well, kinda ...

Friday night I was sitting alone at a coffee shop/bar in downtown Austin, drinking a spiked coffee while entrenched in the edits Tucker assigned me, when a guy plopped down in the extra chair at my table. In a deep English accent he introduced himself, “I'm Eddie, what’s your name?”

I peered over my computer screen, “Ummmm … Brittney.”

"What are you working on?" he asked.

My train of thought was completely ruined, and I was irritated that he'd so boldly interrupted me. What do you want, dude? I'm just working on the biggest project of my life and have five minutes to finish it. I'm not busy or anything.

But I tried to be friendly and threw some closed-ended answers at him: “Some writings.”

"Oh really ... what are you writing?"

"A book."

He sat there for five minutes asking random questions that I responded to with one-word answers. Soon, a buzzer goes off — I assumed it was coming from the noisy downtown streets beyond the open doors 10 feet from me.

“OK, nice to meet you,” he said, getting up from the chair he invited himself to sit down in.

“Oooo… K then, you too,” I responded, rolling my eyes at him as he turns around to sit at another table where another girl sat alone. Maybe she'll want to talk to you — weirdo.

The chair still warm from Eddie's ass, another guy moseyed on up and copped a squat. What is up with the guys in Austin? Is this standard procedure down here? The place is packed so maybe he just needs a seat. But he didn't even have ask. Chivalry is an endangered species, I swear.

“Hey, I’m Jim.”

Apparently writing this blog makes me some sort of relationship expert, because it inspired an invitation from ESPNU to host a a Valentine's Day segment to school boys in how to survive Valentine's Day.

You can watch the segment here, but in synopsis, here are some words of wisdom to get gentlemen through D-Day. I mean, V-day ...

1. Well for starters, don't forget! Though, jewelry commercials certainly make it hard to forget about Valentine's Day. But help the economy (and yourself by making your woman happy) and partake in the Hallmark holiday.

2. Don't get a gift from a drug store or a gas station. Make us feel classy and get our box of chocolates from the grocery store at least.

3. No stuffed animals! ... unless you're shopping for a 10-year-old girl, which in that case would make you gross. Women make their beds with throw pillows as adults, not teddy bears.

4. Be creative when setting up the date. Besides, the more creative you get the cheaper the date gets. And be tactful — don't take her to an expensive steak house if she doesn't eat meat.

Valentine's is typically a holiday geared toward couples and florists, but in all honestly, single men seem to actually reap most of the benefits from it. They can go out on Valentine's Day with the unavailable women already weeded out for them, leaving an assortment of single women looking for a little love, or loving — whatever. And they don't even have to buy a present.Thus the single guys seem to be the ones who score the most on Valentine's Day. Pun intended.

According to the best-selling book by Tucker Max, Assholes Finish First … because we all know the nice guy finishes last. The nice guys in the back of the line can confirm.

And according to another best selling-book, by Sherry Argov, Men Love Bitches. She even goes so far to tell you why.

So does this mean nice girls finish last, while bitches finish first?

I don’t think either gender is exempt from this distorted phenomenon … while the good girl goes after the bad boy, the nice guy likes the bad girl. It makes total sense.

When a person lets someone walk all over them, they will, whether they intend to or not … and then lose respect for said person as they’re digging their heels into their heart.

I'm not even running in the race anymore — you'll find me just driving around in circles, spinning my wheels while assholes like Kyle Busch keep winning. Why? Because I’ve been too sweet to the guys I’m sweet on. I translate into a welcome mat for them to walk all over.

And not just in the dating world either. People will ungratefully abuse my generosity, preying on it like it’s a weakness. Since when has being a good person made you a victim for bad people? But maybe they’re not the asshole for taking advantage of us — we’re the assholes for letting them.

Speaking of assholes, Tucker Max actually makes an excellent point in his book, that men will give women as much respect as they demand they be given. If they care about you, they will meet those demands. If they don’t, they won’t. Simple as that.

I know I was way too nice to him, and he played me like I was a saxophone. I know I shouldn’t have submitted to the situation of not being his priority, I shouldn’t have pretended like it didn’t bother me when he wasn’t consistent, I shouldn’t have stayed in the game when he was making then changing the rules. I shouldn’t have answered his texts because he didn’t pick up the phone and call. And I should’ve said, “Fuck you very much,” rather than thank him when he pulled a make-up sample kit out of a goody bag he got for free from an event, which was two shades lighter than my skin and said, “I got you a Christmas present.”

By caring about a person too much you give them leverage not to care. There's a thin line between nice and naive, and when walking it, it's easy to lose your balance — just try not to lose your dignity while you're at it.

You don’t have to be mean in order to show strength, but you can be more selective about who you’re kind to — only people who are kind to you. So no more giving more than you get, especially from someone who is selfish with your selflessness. So no more Miss Nice Girl! … but I’m still not going to be a bitch.