The dumping season is upon us, men

IT’S only fitting that the cruelest time of year starts when Valentine’s Day candy still overflows from the clearance bin.

Be on your toes, fellas. The dumping season has arrived.

At no other time of the year are women afforded such a perfect window of opportunity to kick us to the curb. The protective bubble of the major holiday season, during which a woman would rather lose a limb than be single, is over -- and doesn’t start again until Thanksgiving.

Running from Feb. 15 until Tax Day, the dumping season is the best chance a woman has to shirk her lousy lover while having enough time for fun on the rebound before settling into a new and improved relationship just in time for summer lovin’.

Sound too calculated? Think of how many women you know who haven’t been planning their dream wedding since age 3. Planning a breakup is a logistical walk in the park, and riding out a few lame duck months in an effort to schedule the most opportune time is no big deal.

Unless you were foolish enough to believe that the 99 Cent Only Store is “Your Valentine’s Day Headquarters” -- and suddenly found yourself dumped thanks to your own poor taste -- odds are this breakup has been in the works longer than you want to know. Think back to your past breakups and you’ll know it’s true. She says: “We need to talk.”

Understanding the severity of those four words, your natural response is: “How long have you been feeling this way?”

“For quite some time now.”

Translated, that phrase means at least three months, give or take a couple weeks.

“Why didn’t you say anything until now?”

“There was never a good time.”

That’s right. Some time ago, perhaps around Halloween, when your Hunter S. Thompson costume (complete with fully functional hallucinogens) was just a little too authentic, a line had been crossed. Unlike us, women never forget. Had the holidays not been lurking around the corner, she would have ditched you the moment you started talking to the punch bowl. Instead, she kept her embarrassed rage in check, knowing full well she’d rather fake a New Year’s Eve kiss than be on the couch with her cat waiting for the ball to drop.

There really isn’t much a guy can do to protect himself from a dumping season breakup. You’d have a much easier time trying to change the orbit of the moon. Tony Robbins couldn’t even talk his way out of being sent packing this time of year.

The only way around something so indefensible is to have a cunning offense. Unless you’re dating Annie Duke, a woman will always tip her hand that a breakup is imminent. They just don’t have the poker face needed for maximum surprise.

The moment you realize the jig is up, go straight for the jugular. It’s going to happen anyway. Be the one who saves face by pulling the trigger. Besides, when a woman finds out that you already know what she thinks you don’t know, she’ll realize you’re the one who’s holding all the cards.

Here’s how to tell, in one easy step, when a breakup is coming.

Suggest a weekend getaway to Palm Springs, in a month or so, for some alone time and a shopping expedition to the outlet malls. Tell her you want to replace the knock-offs you’ve been buying her with slightly irregulars.

If she at all hesitates or otherwise says no, be expecting a grim phone call. Worst-case scenario: It’s from the producers of “Maury.” If that happens, calmly hang up and move to Canada.

Ideally, she’ll eagerly insist on meeting at a Starbucks not anywhere close to where either of you live or work. She wants a neutral site to dump you without the worry of an embarrassing return visit. Counter her move by showing up with a puppy. You don’t have to buy one, just rent one. She’ll be thrown so far off her game she’ll forget her reason behind the meeting. Use this to your advantage, and explain how your new friend has inspired you to break the shackles and be more adventurous. On your way out, don’t forget to mention you’re looking forward to being great friends. Then use that puppy to meet someone new.

Unlike your relationship, this trick never fails.

*

Todd Munson may be reached at weekend@latimes.com