Listen up, Greg. Time travel is no joke. I have a special place in my a-hole-ish Flux Capicitor-shaped heart for Doc Brown that pumps 1.21 gigawatts of blood through it everyday which means I take the space/time continuum very, very seriously. I don’t think Marty McFly would appreciate you sending some possible reefer addict to the past and ruining the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance.
Also, what’s up with the sexism?
My advice? Make the inaugural time travel trip yourself, find your past self, work together to get your present self laid, therefore ensuring that your future self won’t be such a douche bag.