Pic of the Week – Pumping Gas

Before I get to the substance of this post, I would first like to address the unfortunate uptick in the usage of YOLO around these parts. Both of my fabulous co-bloggers have used the term in their recent posts. And though I love them dearly, I would like to officially distance myself from them when it comes to this stupid ass phrase. Under no circumstances do I want anyone thinking that I’m calling this the “summer of YOLO.” 

weevil time to party

Source: http://www.pinterest.com/caridee17/veronica-mars/

Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally on board with and embrace the sentiment behind “summer of YOLO.” Much like S and L, earlier this week I demanded an explanation from the guy I was seeing who faded into oblivion (it was a BS reason), where I previously would have just wondered and obsessed in silence. I’ve tried a bunch of new things this summer, both on the dating front, and in general. I just shun the actual term “YOLO.” And I wanted to make that clear. 

Okey dokey, on to the topic at hand – dating. We haven’t done a pic of the week in awhile. It’s high time we fix this.

The majority of profile pics tend to fall into one of the following categories:

  • selfies (most typically of the bathroom variety);
  • with friends at a bar/party/club, drink in hand;
  • at a sporting event;
  • in formal attire (“____’s wedding!”); and/or
  • doing something outside, most commonly hiking or at the beach.

But we wouldn’t have this blog feature if everyone stuck to that predictable format. Shit would get real boring, real fast. Which brings me to a rarely seen category: dude performing a mundane task.

pic of the week - pumping gas 


  • full body shot
  • he knows how to pump gas (I know that seems like an obvious thing people know, but on a road trip with a friend one summer, I went in to get snacks and left him to pump the gas, and he apparently had to ask the guy behind us for help, so I no longer assume)


  • not interesting in any way, shape, or form
  • unclear whether this is: his car, a stranger’s car, a rental car, or a friend’s car
  • potentially a shot of him just doing his job
  • not interesting in any way, shape, or form
  • you can not actually see his face
  • not interesting in any way, shape, or form

What exactly is the point of this picture? Both in general and for an online dating profile? Why was this picture even taken? He’s not gassing up the Batmobile or an Aston Martin. It’s a subaru. And nothing against subarus, I’ve owned 2, but no one cares. Despite that, someone whipped out their camera(phone) anyway and documented this happening, and then this dude thought to himself, “you know what would be a great profile pic on OKC – that pic of me filling up a tank of gas!” The only thing this has going for it is that it wasn’t taken in a showroom.

If you’re going to put up pictures of you with a vehicle, at least make it worth my while. Unless it’s one of these beauties, I don’t give a shit:

aston martin vantage roadster

Source: autoevolution.com

two tone pickup

Source: rustfreeclassics.com

HA, those 2 images look absurd together. Don’t worry, I know that the second picture is pretty specific to me. But god I love a pickup. And an old-school two-tone pickup? Heaven. Rustfreeclassics.com is a gold mine for me. (Of course I love something on a site called Rust Free Classics). But I also love that Vantage Roadster. I don’t know how to explain it, but they both do it for me.

You know who drives a sweet truck? My soulmate:

Tim Riggins pickup truck

Source: dearfuturehubby.com

Texas forever man. Texas forever.

My first truly terrible date

Like D, I have been light on the date posts recently. This is because the guys I’ve been out with in the past month fall into two categories:

1) Guys who are so dull I literally could not write an interesting post about our dates unless I were to get up in the middle of the them and set the bar on fire or commit a similar crime.


2) Guys who I’ve seen again/wanted to see again because the date has gone well.

However, last week, that changed. I had my first date with someone whose personality I truly detested. And, I thought TGFTB (thank god for the blog), because otherwise all I would have had to show for it was 40 terrible minutes of my life that I’d never get back (and a lovely dose of textual harassment).

A seemed like perfectly normal guy when he messaged me. We shared a love of the Boss and of ice cream, and he cut to the chase and asked me out pretty quickly. He was a PE teacher, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that I was hoping he’d turn out a lot like this:

coach taylor

And not like this:

coach carr

He looked like neither, but as long as he didn’t look like this (editor’s note: Ms. Stoeger! This is why we’re friends, L):

ms stoeger

I figured I’d give him a chance.

Anyway, A and I agreed to meet for frozen yogurt on a Friday afternoon. Afternoon dates are not ideal, because you are meeting a stranger without the social crutches of 1) alcohol and 2) dim lighting. But we were both pretty busy, and I figured the silver lining of the afternoon date is that, if it goes poorly, I could end it quickly.

I arrived at the froyo place and we got in line to order. He was slightly ahead of me, and when we got to the end of the counter, the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”  And A, who BTW, is 38 years old, literally 10 years older than me, and gainfully employed, and asked ME out, says, “Separate.” 


Now, I am a very progressive sista who has NO QUALMS about paying my own way. But, I found this rude. If I had been first in line, I would have said “together” and thrown down my card. Cause it’s a date. Otherwise we might as well be two strangers just buying frozen yogurt around the same time. So, I began the date a little put-off (Does this guy not think I’m worth 6 dollars? Is he going on so many dates that treating for froyo has become a prohibitive cost??) But, I decide to put the beginning aside and try to have a good time. We make the usual small talk: where we grew up, siblings, jobs, etc. He’s talking about being a gym teacher, and I say, “Oh, how do you like it?” And he says, “That’s a STUPID question. Of course I’m going to tell you I like it. We just met. It would look terrible if I hated my job.”

OK, buddy. Can I offer you an Ativan and a reality check?

1) Don’t call someone you just met 5 minutes ago STUPID. How old are you? Oh that’s right, 38!!!

2) There are a lot of nice, normal ways to answer that question that go beyond “yes.” For example, you could say, “Yeah–it’s really interesting. Sometimes it’s too much chaos for me, but it’s a small price to pay for how much fun I have spending time with kids.” Or you could say, “It’s OK. I’m thinking I might want to do something that has broader impact and more variety in what the day to day looks like.”

Despite my rapidly increasing horror, we continue to chat. He mentions he likes movies. I’m like, “Oh cool! What are some great movies you’ve seen recently? And he says, “Well I just saw Zero Dark Thirty. But unfortunately, people were misbehaving in the theater and really ruined my experience.” 

“Oh, what happened? ” I asked, hoping to hear a funny story about two people getting it on in front of him, an old man releasing a toxic fart, or some children having a temper tantrum. You know, NORMAL THINGS TO BE ANNOYED ABOUT AT THE MOVIES.

“Well I caught two people texting on their phones during the movie.”So I had to speak with the usher and ask that they be removed from the theater. That’s against the rules.”

HUH? This guy has a legitimate social disability!! Get me out of here!  I figure at this point, all I can do is wolf down this froyo, make up some excuse about having to go back to work, and exit gracefully. Except, the next thing A says to me is: “Do people ever tell you that you talk REALLY fast?”

(I do talk fast. And people tell me that A LOT. In a MUCH more polite ways than this guy just did). “Oh yeah,” I said, trying to laugh it off. “I just get really excited about things I guess. Can you not understand me?” 

A said, “I can, but I just thought you should know that.”

I said, “Thanks.”

Finally, I finish my froyo, check my phone and confirm I’ve been there a respectable 30 + minutes and I can bounce. “Sorry,” I told him, “Something has come up and I have to go back to work.”

So we walk outside, where I am prepared to salute this guy, or, at most, give him a firm handshake, and be on my way. Before I can move, he PULLS me into a very close hug, rubs his hands up and down my back and says, “I had a really good time. I’d love to see you again.”

say what

Good sir, you have spent the last 30 minutes insulting me and blatantly sharing your distaste for humanity and anything fun. There is no country, no religion, no culture, in which this would be considered, by anyone, a good time. But, do I say this? No. Because I am literally scared that this guy is mentally ill and if I irritate him there is a 50% chance he’ll stab me in the street. So I say, “Umm ok, just text me…” and then I SPRINT away. 

I put A out of my memory ASAP, hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with a message from him for a few days. That night, I was out with friends for beers and basketball when I get a text from A:

a text 1

Hmm. I don’t know how to respond to that. It was NOT nice meeting you A. And I hope this weekend you trip and fall down the stairs. But I don’t want to type something nasty to anyone, let alone a confirmed psychopath, so I ignore the text for now. And besides, I don’t return every text I receive instantly, especially if someone isn’t asking me a time sensitive question.

So the next afternoon, I am getting ready to go to a babysitting job and my phone beeps. And, guess who it is? It’s A:

a text 2


1) It’s been less than 24 hours buddy. It’s not like you texted 911. I have a job, and friends, and a life. Sorry if exchanging faux-pleasantries with you isn’t #1 on my weekend to-do list.

2) Again, you were a HORRIFIC date. You’re lucky I’m not using your full freaking name on this blog so women across the DMV area can be spared 6 dollars and your company. So pardon me if I’m not itching to communicate with you and hear more stories about how you tattle on people in movie theaters.

3) If you had actually texted and asked me out again, I would have happily rejected you. If someone asks me out again and I’m not interested, I always write a nice, polite rejection. And the responses I receive following the rejection are more normal, and nicer, than the text I just received from you.

4) This is the world of online dating. Sometimes, you reach out to someone, and you don’t hear back.  It sucks, but it happens. Remember that we’re all still basically strangers, and while it’s impolite to not respond indefinitely to someone you’re never met, people still do it. And I can guarantee you, no one has ever gained anything from sending a hostile text.

I really hope that’s the last I hear from A. And please know, the only PE teacher I’ll be spending time with this week is:

sue sylvester

P. S.: Ya’ll, I can’t tell you how many hours spent googling “PE TEACHER”  “famous coach,” etc. went into the creation of this post. It’s straight up embarrassing.