Message Monday: Chinese delicacy

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet since some of us are coming off an absolutely perfect long holiday weekend and are clinically depressed about having to return to work/the real world, and this is about all we can handle at the moment:

jellyfish

grossed out

Source: www.gurl.com

Oh, I’ve been introduced to jellyfish, sir, and frankly, I wish I hadn’t been. I feel the same way about them as poor Monica Gellar.

I’m terrified of those little fuckers. I grew up going to the Jersey shore every summer, and I’d dread the few weeks in August where droves of disgusting discs would descend on the water, and I’d basically spend the entire time in the water doing this…

jellyfish

Source: giphy.com

Also, I don’t mean to sound completely ignorant about non-Western food (looking at you, Beef Teriyaki guy). I’m actually a pretty adventurous eater; I’ll happily try pretty much any type of cuisine from pretty much any part of the world, but I draw the line at bugs and poisonous sea predators. I can’t. I won’t.

To be fair to this message sender, one of Okc’s profile sections does ask you to list your favorite movies, music, shows, books, and food. And I did write that I like lots of different types of food. So I guess this was my bad for thinking that sharing that fact would maybe result in like, a fun date at a Lebanese place, and not someone trying to feed me disgusting, terrifying, stringy little summer ruiners.

I know I’ve complained about generic/one word messages before, and as bizarre as this one was, I can’t deny that it was…unique. So I tried to keep an open mind while I checked out his profile. But yeah. Unsurprisingly, this dude is a liiiiittttttle too…eccentric (translation: fucking weird)…for my taste. I’m sure there’s a single gal out there who would be thrilled to eat poisonous globs with him, but it ain’t me, Mr. Jellyfish. It ain’t me.

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Stucu’s best date spots: Philly edition

Happy almost birthday, ‘Murica, and Happy almost long weekend of binge drinking/eating/fireworking, my fellow Americans.  The subject of today’s post is the fair City of Brotherly Love, where a certain important document was drafted years ago mere blocks from where I’m sitting at this very moment.

Anyway, this is Part 2 of our little ‘best of’ series, and in case you missed it, you can catch L’s best DC date spots here. So let’s get to one of my favorite things in the world: opinions!

opinion

Source: www.bodylovewellness.com

If a guy asks me out, in an ideal world he picks where we’re going to meet up, at least the first time around. But this is the real world, and in the real world, lazy suburbanites who’ve apparently never heard of Yelp usually text me things like: “so where should we meet up?”  or “I don’t know the city that well, any ideas?” I mean….

How-Rude-Stephanie-Full-House

Source: soletstalkabout.com

As annoying as this can be, it’s also an opportunity, because there is something to be said for controlling the location of a first date. I used to think that location didn’t matter much, and it’s true, if you hit it off with someone you will probably do that whether the date is in a trendy upscale restaurant or a dive bar that reeks of urine. But I’ve come to believe that there is a bit of a science to this whole thing.

In honor of that (pseudo) science, here are three types of date spots that I like to keep in my back pocket for when I’ve got a clueless suburbanite on my hands, and that I think every single girl should have in her arsenal:

  • a fun neighborhood bar with good beer/drinks (and lots of room) for first and second dates
  • someplace a little swanky/mysterious/sexy (I couldn’t even type ‘sexy’ without thinking of this–I’m seriously 12:)

  • something different than the typical drinks/dinner scene

You may note that I stayed away from actual restaurants on this list because not to be obnoxious, but Philly has a GREAT restaurant scene, so I don’t feel like it’s hard to find a really good place to eat, ever. Anyway, let’s get to this list, shall we?

S’s Top Three Philly Date Spots

1. First date watering hole: Strangelove’s (216 S. 11th Street, Philadelphia, PA 19107–11th Street between Walnut & Locust)

strangeloves

This is my ideal first date location because it:

  • is casual but not divey
  • is cool but not overly trendy or pretentious
  • is never insanely crowded or loud
  • has good food in case the date goes well and we decide to have dinner
  • is in my neighborhood so I can easily FLEE if I have a serial killer on my hands

Over the past…wow, 2 years (#old) I’ve actually taken….five? dudes to this bar on a first or second date. That I can remember. It’s highly possible the bartenders and waitstaff have a running pool on when I’ll be in next and with whom. What can I say? It’s my old reliable (even though it’s only been under this name/owner for like a year. Shhhh.)

The beer selection is great if you or your date are into that (I am), but there’s a full bar if you’re not. This place is popular and can get crowded, but there’s a big upstairs bar so you’ll never find yourself awkwardly standing and trying to be witty and charming while simultaneously getting elbowed and sloshing Saison all over yourself. And in case you were worried, it has the GOOP stamp of approval (damn it that smug bitch has good taste). Also, there’s something incredibly fitting about having a first date with a stranger you met online underneath a glowing sign that says “STRANGE LOVE”.

If your date turns out to not be an illiterate sociopath (in which case)…..

congratulations

and you decide to stay and eat, the food is delicious and inexpensive. Also, the music isn’t blasting so loudly that you can actually HEAR wtf your date is saying. I realize I sound like the most uncool old person that ever lived when I complain about noise levels in bars…

mindy wifi

Source: starcrush.com

but sorry, haters, first dates are awkward enough without having to shout ‘What??’ and ‘Huh??’ back and forth with a stranger for an hour.

2. Swanky and sexy: The Ranstead Room (2013 Ranstead St, Philadelphia, PA 19103)

https://i0.wp.com/www.wheretraveler.com/sites/default/files/styles/features_slideshow_gallery_articles/public/Ranstead_Room_Courtesy%20of%20the%20Ranstead%20Room.jpg

Usually when someone suggests hitting up a speakeasy that 1. is hidden down an alleyway 2. has bartenders that wear twee little vintage get ups 3. is too cool to have a website and 4. may close at a moment’s notice without warning I’m like:

hipster nonsense

Source: gifmethat.tumblr.com

But I promise you (and Liz Lemon), this is a good one.

I have to give my ex full credit for introducing me to the Ranstead Room, especially since he’s probably reading this post (hey, D). You guys, this place is so fun and so. sexy. Maybe a little much for a first date, but perfect for a second or third. Yes, it’s small, located down a sketchy back street with no sign and yes, there’s almost always a wait, but they’ll take your cell # and call you when a table opens up so you can go around the corner and wait at a bar or grab a bite to eat.

Once you actually enter it feels like Madmen-meets-70s porn set-meets-vampire den, which sounds insane but it fucking works. The drinks are delicious and the atmosphere is perfect for my favorite date activity:

banter

Source: domini-porter.tumblr.com

I’m telling you, RR’s great music, low lighting, vintage paintings of naked ladies on the walls (very non-sleazy/tongue in cheek ) and friendly, non-pretentious bartenders will make you feel hella cool and mysterious, and you will more than likely end up flirting your ass off with whoever is sitting across from you (to varying levels of success, of course, depending on your skill and blood alcohol levels).

clive bixby

Then, when you’ve flirted and bantered to your heart’s content and you inevitably tie a load on from those 4 custom cocktails you just downed, might I suggest…

jess singing

Source: allaboutnewgirl.tumblr.com

Calm down, you pervs. I was actually going to recommend ordering a snack off the menu of the yummy Mexican restaurant next door. Drunk guacamole, people. DRUNK. GUACAMOLE. Get your priorities straight.

Honestly, forget dates (and the fact that this post includes the word “intercourse”); if you’re from out of town and you visit Philly, check this place out.

3. Nerdy and unique: The Franklin Institute (271 North 21st Street, Philadelphia, PA 19103)

franklin institute

Honorary mention goes to Art After 5, which is definitely a more “grown up” option, but I’ve never actually gone there on a date (only with friends–woooommmmp #painfullysingle) so I felt like it was cheating to put it on this list.

I love a museum date, especially when the weather’s shitty. I like that it’s something interactive to do with your date, there are conversation starters all around you to fill any awkward silences, and if you get ass numbingly bored after an hour you can just peace out and resume discussing whatever low-brow things you normally talk about while still feeling cultured as shit for going.

mindy price harry

Source: www.tvguide.com

Philly has some great museums, and if you’re looking purely for art/culture, I have a bunch of arguably better recs for you than this one (also if you’re looking to totally creep your date out, I’ve got a rec for that, too). The Barnes is killer. The Constitution Center is great. But the Franklin Institute is …different. Maybe that’s because it’s technically a kid’s museum. BUT it’s also a combination of nerdy, wacky, juvenile, random and totally kitschy, which I love, and I think it makes for a more fun, playful date (at least early on) than your standard art museum. Also, being able to joke/be playful/not take yourself too seriously is a personality trait that I really value, and this is a good way to spot any know it all snoots who wouldn’t be thrilled to climb through a giant heart with you.

Other reasons why this is a fun date option:

  • Planetariums are hella romantic. Just ask Ross and Rachel.
  • You’ll seriously LOL at some of the laughably vintage exhibits
  • An hour or two among droves of screaming kids, and you will definitely both remember the importance of birth control.

jack thumbs up

Source: degrassi.wikia.com

So there you have it. Philly peeps, what do you think? What are some of your favorite date spots? I realize I basically stuck with the Center City area, but I’m always looking for new places to check out.

Have an awesome holiday weekend, readers. I’ll be spending mine lakeside with my homegirl D while L is sunbathing in Europe. (I know, we hate her, too.) Stay tuned for our Beantown edition of best date spots next week!

I got dumped (and lived to blog about it), Part 1

rule

via: http://www.thatonerule.com/rule/1247

I heard this quote months ago and it really stuck with me. Not the ‘relationships are simple’ part, because that’s bullshit, but the idea that every single romantic relationship that I have in my life, aside from (hopefully) one, is inevitably going to end. Somehow, some way, it’s going to end. It’s a cynical, depressing thought, but it’s true.

It’s also what makes being in a relationship so f*cking scary: you never know when the ax is going to fall (unless, of course, you’re the one wielding it). For instance, I didn’t know when I bragged like an idiot about being “out of the dating game” on Monday that literally 24 hours later it would no longer be true. I just went about my business normally, answering questions about my boo at L’s parents’ Passover Seder on Monday night, thinking about what outfit I should wear to dinner with him on Friday (ahem, as in tonight…fielding that reservation confirmation call was a blast), and then…

breakup

via: film.com

D and I broke up. Well, correction: D broke up with me.

My co-bloggers were surprised that this post was done and ready to go so quickly after the…dumping, but honestly the only thing (aside from my wonderful, supportive friends and fam) that has made me feel better is writing. I literally sat down at my desk on Wednesday morning rocking huge sunglasses to hide my terrifying bloodshot eyes, and proceeded to word vomit this entire thing for the next hour.

This post  (which ps has quickly evolved into a two parter–you should know by now that brevity is not my strong suit) was especially weird to write because I know for a fact that D is going to read it. I mean, how completely bizarre is that? I was mildly tempted to put on a cool/aloof front and act like I DGAF about what happened/am already moving on to greener pastures, but honestly, fuck it. I don’t really care how I come off; I don’t have the energy to be anything but honest right now (and also, apparently, dramatic). A part of me also feels oddly protective of D, 1. because it’s just me here telling one side of the story and 2. as you’ll read, he didn’t do anything awful or dishonest or douchey, so I have no intention of skewering him or over-sharing at his expense. I don’t feel the righteous anger of a woman scorned like I did with J or H. I honestly just feel…sad.

debbie downer

via: http://letitrainlemonade.blogspot.com/2013/02/debbie-downer-much.html

So… where to begin? I guess I’ll start by saying that while I was shocked when it happened, I wasn’t shocked that it happened. Things had been kind of weird between me and D for a few weeks. His job was very intense and he was in a bout of working crazy long hours, but he was also just acting…strange. Distant. Off. He would insist that it was work stuff and stress and exhaustion, and I know that he wasn’t lying about those things. Something else seemed wrong to me, though, but I felt like an asshole harping on it. I was trying so hard not to be a stupid clingy girl, because no one wants to be that girl. I told myself that it was hard to maintain a relationship with crazy schedules and limited time to see each other in person. I didn’t really share my uneasiness with my friends because I couldn’t pinpoint what I was uneasy about. Then I’d see D in person and things would be fun and awesome and great again, and I’d forget about the weirdness altogether.

Last weekend, D was out of town at a wedding and I was hosting a bunch of friends for L’s birthday. We didn’t really talk the whole time, but again, I attributed it to us both having plans and doing our own thing. When D got home on Sunday, we caught up on the phone and things seemed normal and good. He asked if I was around Tuesday night and if I was free to grab a drink (news flash: “grab a drink” is obviously the universal euphemism for “get dumped”. Now you know.)

Tuesday night arrived and it was pouring rain (of course it was–although it will set the scene nicely when this story is adapted for 0ur future TV series) so D picked me up. I immediately could tell something was up and asked him what was going on. It took him a while to get the words out but he finally said:

“I think we should take a break.”

Pop quiz, early Millenials! What’s the very first thing that comes to mind when you hear that phrase?

Even though I semi blacked out, as one does in these situations, I’m pretty sure I managed to mumble, “what is this, Friends?”. As D continued, I quickly realized that by “break” he actually meant “break up” (and everyone knows how “taking a break” always ends anyway. Especially Ross and Rachel).

D told me that he had been feeling weird about us for a little while, that his feelings for me had changed, and that he couldn’t stop thinking about his ex. Oof.

louis

via: http://justgif.com/tags/247/facepalm

I’m not a particularly jealous person, but I couldn’t help but wonder about D’s ex who he broke up with over the summer. I was the first person he seriously dated after her and it was hard not to wonder if there were still lingering feelings there, although to be honest D hadn’t given me a reason to think that there were. I knew that he had seen the ex in question at last weekend’s wedding (of their mutual friends). He insisted nothing had happened between them aside the fact that he felt a real connection with her again, and he couldn’t ignore it, and it wasn’t fair to me for him to deny it or pretend that it wasn’t happening.

D kept going, his words only partially sinking in: he really cared about me, didn’t want to lose me as a friend, felt sick about hurting me, bla bla bla. What I heard was:

dumped_lge

via: http://blogs.houstonpress.com/hairballs/2009/12/online_stuff_you_gotta_do_afte.php

We sat in D’s car for a long time. Sometimes I talked and sometimes he talked, and sometimes it was awkwardly silent. I cried, because I don’t care what anyone says, getting dumped is completely traumatic/horrific, especially when you get dumped because your S.O. can’t stop thinking about someone else…

feelings

via: http://camphalfblood.wikia.com/wiki/File:Tumblr_md7tum00ng1rgzenuo1_500.gif

…but aside from the tears, the whole thing was strangely calm. There was no yelling. There were no alarm bells going off in my head telling me this was a mistake, that this was the right guy for me, that he was who I was supposed to end up with. I knew that while I cared about and felt close to D, my feelings for him were never that strong, and that despite having a great time with him, I couldn’t exactly picture a long term future with him either. Breaking up felt awful, but it also weirdly felt right. And that’s when I started to get mad, not at D (okay, obviously a little at D) but mostly at myself. For ignoring all the signals and not trusting my gut. For not calling D out on his weird behavior earlier. For not being honest about my feelings, with him or with myself.

So there I was, stuck in D’s car, hating myself, hating the universe, crying, my ego shot to hell, and wondering what the eff I was supposed to do next. Part of me wanted to run from that car like it was on fire; the other part of me felt glued to my seat. After we were both quiet for a bit, D assured me that he was happy to sit and talk for as long as I wanted, or still get drinks if I was up for it, or he’d take me anywhere I wanted to go. “I just need a minute,” I told him, blowing my nose pathetically. He nodded.

Finally, through the haze of emotions, I started to remember how my other relationships (and non relationships) ended in the past. And there seemed to be one common denominator: they each ended abruptly. When J broke up with me in a crowded bar I was so shocked and mortified that I literally ran out of there and never saw him or spoke to him again (well, save for a random little exchange last fall). When I ended things with H, my feelings for him were so strong that I knew in order to get over him/not get sucked back in I’d have to cut him out of my life completely. So it was the same thing; I told him it was over and essentially hung up on him. Both times I felt so unsatisfied, like there were things I wanted to say and ask but never had the chance to. If a relationship is a sentence, there were no periods at the end of those sentences (and I’m a stickler for punctuation- BADUM CHING). You know what word I’m about to use: the c word. No, not that c-word, dirty birds. Closure.

I wanted closure. I needed closure. And I decided I was going to get it.

I looked in the mirror at my ridiculously red, puffy eyes, and then over at D. “Take me somewhere dark where I won’t see anyone I know.” He nodded and started the car.

Stay tuned for the (thoroughly un-) dramatic conclusion to my break up saga next week.

LSD: Reddit sensations

It’s slow times over here in singleland. No new dates, no good prospects. Picture an actual tumbleweed rolling across my okc profile and that’s pretttttyyy much the current state of affairs. So what’s a dating blogger to do when she has no dates? Stalk her blog’s stats page, of course.

Confession: we enjoy looking at our stats the way some people enjoy watching porn. True, you can’t get much more narcissistic than obsessing over how many people are reading a blog that you write about yourself, but it’s just so fun! We can see who is reading in foreign countries. We can see the google search terms people use before they click to our site (these are so completely amazing that they deserve their own post. Stay tuned.) And while this all makes us feel very cool, the actual number of hits we get on a daily basis is, well, let’s call it humble.

Anyway, last week I signed onto the stats page and saw this:

stucu stats reddit

Those are our views per day. Wow, I thought, I know my K posts were riveting, but literally three times the typical number of people visited on those two days. I’m not going to lie, my heart started racing a bit. Did Mindy Kaling tweet about us? Did Tina Fey stumble upon the blog while doing research for a movie about online dating and email a link to all her contacts in Hollywood? Is she about to hire us as screenwriters!?! SHOULD I QUIT MY JOB???

Then I noticed something else:

stucu stats reddit links

Stucu was on Reddit. Here’s what I knew about Reddit up until this point:

  • It’s a sausage fest. Roughly 50% of okc profiles I read mention reddit somewhere in their profile, but I’ve never once heard any girl I know mention it. The only time I’d actually been on the site was when my friend’s husband (Hi Mr. R!) emailed me links to stories. Here is an actual stat that I looked up, because I felt like doing that instead of finishing my work today:                                         reddit stat

That’s from a PBS video that you can check out here if you’re stuck in an airport or a prison cell and you have 8 minutes to kill. Anyway, back to what I knew about Reddit when I made my discovery:

  • The site design/interface is overwhelming. And quite frankly, ugly. Would it kill the good people of Reddit to add a little production value? Maybe a new font or color scheme? A format that doesn’t make me want to blow my brains out?
  • There are approximately 5 fafillion “sub-categories” including, as it turns out, one about OKcupid.
  • The concept is to vote posts up and down, so the more popular posts are at the top of each page. The comments are also notoriously…spirited (translation: nasty).

But the question still remained: how did we end up on Reddit in the first place? I clicked the first link and saw this:

reddit ward

I recognized our promoter as W, a friend of a friend of L’s who has become a loyal reader, even though he’s never actually met any of us. What a great shout out! This was exciting. Stucu was getting a ton of a lot more traffic. Tina Fey would be calling any day now.

Thennnnn I noticed the comments. And while I’m still holding out hope that Tina, her husband Jeff Richmond, and their daughters Alice Zenobia and Penelope Richmond will all love and adore our blog, I’d say the men of Reddit have pretty much made up their minds about us. Please enjoy our favorite comments:

reddit death penalty

Rick Perry, is that you?

reddit still single

Ouch, 26 year old from CT who is “actually a llama”. Also, do you mean my response where I called K a really sweet, thoughtful guy and said I felt bad I wasn’t into him because he was so great? If that’s why I’m single, I might as well slap on a mumu and start adopting cats now, because I’m f-cked.

reddit hating women

Guess I’m doing my part to keep Reddit popular among the embittered male demographic. You’re welcome!

reddit jewess

Hitler, is that you?

reddit like

Oh okay, solitary girl on Reddit. Yes, it’s true we say ‘like’ a lot. D and I were actually cringing over the gchat convos I posted and the number of ‘likes’ that three well educated, grown ass women managed to drop. But honestly, you’re a 28 year old woman mocking strangers on an okcupid subreddit, so… people in glass houses. Also, it’s hardly surprising to be dissed by a bunch of hostile dudes behind their computer screens for deigning to (very nicely) reject a guy, but I guess gender solidarity means nothing to you. What’s that, Leslie Knope?

ovaries before brovaries

Preach.

Last but not least, my favorite comment:

reddit got

K, is that you?

PS– Special thank you to W for pimping us out on Reddit and also for defending us against the haters! (I didn’t share that part, but he did. So nice). Even if we enraged a few mouth breathers, as Amanda Bynes would probably say, there’s no such thing as bad press. 

OKC Questions: S’s Makers and Breakers

Last week L kicked off our three part series by sharing the OKC questions that mattered to her. Now it’s my turn. So without further ado, here are my three picks…

1) The personal hygiene question:

okc questions brush teeth

In the same way that having peace loving parents influenced L to care about a war question, having a mom who worked in the dental field for most of my life taught me to care about this one. This was the first question that I really paid attention to when I joined the site because I was shocked by how many dudes FREELY ADMITTED to brushing their teeth once a day or “only on days when they feel like it”. First and foremost, guys, you… don’t brush your teeth twice a day? Seriously?! Obviously we’ve all had nights when we’ve been super tired/drunk/whatever and didn’t brush before bed. No one’s perfect. Sometimes shit happens:

I’m talking about your standard everyday routine. Brushing twice a day is basic, basic hygiene that all second graders are aware of. And if that didn’t stick with you, I’m nervous to find out what else didn’t make it into adulthood.

Second, even if you only brush your teeth once a day or less (!!!!), you still know that twice a day is the normal, acceptable standard for human beings living in the first world. So why are you voluntarily admitting to having subpar personal hygiene on a dating site? You do know that the goal is for us to eventually kiss, right? Do you think making me imagine these scenarios staring back at me when we get to that moment is helping your cause?

okc questions food-in-teeth

austin-powers-teeth

dental work

*FYI consider yourselves lucky that I chose these super tame pics because there were some seriously grizzly alternatives available. Google imaging ‘bad teeth’ is officially the most traumatic thing this blog has done since L Wiki’d sociopaths last week.

Last but not least, why the sudden candor? L, D, and I have all experienced the lies dudes tell on Okcupid firsthand, most notably in the height and looks department. Height exaggeration on OKC has literally been documented:

okc male height distribution

Click here if you want to read up on the other things men (and women) lie about on Okcupid. Spoiler alert: it’s looks and money. My point is, men are obviously cool with lying about all. kinds. of shit. So why not this? Why not just tell me you have exemplary oral hygiene, and I’ll be none the wiser? You literally are 100% kosher with claiming that you’re 4 inches taller than you actually are, but when it comes to brushing habits you’re suddenly Honest Abe? Next time do yourself a favor, sir, and skip the question altogether.

2) The cheap date question:

okc questions tippers

I promise I’m not attempting to fan the flames of our ‘who should pay’ debate (which PS was our most hotly discussed and contested post to date. We love how fired up you all got!). This question has zero to do with gender. It is, however, a major pet peeve of mine and has been for as long as I can remember. I can’t stand bad tippers. To me, the bare minimum you tip a server in the US “who did a fine job” is 15%. Really unless the service is bad, I always try to leave 20%. If the service is amazing I try to leave more. You’re probably thinking I feel strongly about this because I used to be a waitress, but my Vaudeville routine level of clumsiness has prevented me from venturing into the service industry. Also, watching Rachel Green struggle for so many years was a bit of a deterrent.

However, while I may not have waited tables, I have had my share of low paying thankless jobs *coughjuniorsdepartmentatKohlscoughcough*. And there’s nothing worse than working your ass off and feeling like you have nothing to show for it. Actually, there is: being out to eat with people who basically make it rain at the beginning of the meal ordering drinks and food…

make-it-rain-guys

but when faced with the bill are suddenly too broke to tip properly. I’m not going to stand on my soap box any longer, I promise, but this one is important to me. Be kind to your fellow humans who work hard for little pay. Tip your servers! If you don’t, I can’t date you. *End PSA*

3) The wtf are you doing on this site question

okc questions meet in person

You would think that this one would be a no brainer. YOU. WOULD. THINK. After all, you sign up for online dating voluntarily. No one puts a gun to your head and makes you do it. So the question is, if you don’t want to eventually meet in person, what exactly are you doing on here? Just browsing? Window shopping? Fair enough, except I’ve actually been messaged by seemingly normal dudes who I later discover are “not interested in meeting in person”.

First of all, I have zero interest in a creepy online only relationship (unless it ends like You’ve Got Mail did. In which case, sign me up!)

You know what else I have zero interest in? Being catfished. I’ve seen that MTV show (PS, if you want to feel really effing old, watch some MTV) and it terrifies me. And what do the people who lie about their identity all have in common? Oh I don’t know, maybe that they’re RELUCTANT TO MEET IN PERSON. So I don’t think I’d be remiss in calling this question a red flag. With all the liars and creepers that lurk on online dating sites, the sooner we can meet and I can confirm that you’re not a 15 year old boy or a 65 year old woman, the better.

Stay tuned for our third and final installment of Makers and Breakers featuring the lovely D!

Pic of the Week: Scion Dealership

pic of the week contender 2

TALKING POINTS:

  • The pose. It’s not a Porsche buddy, no need to look so smug in front of it.
  • IN the Scion Dealership. I’m unclear as to what’s happening here. Did you buy this car? Do you work here? Was this just a Sunday Funday activity, hitting up all the local car dealers and taking pictures in front of unimpressive cars?
  • The car. I can barely see you, so you’re clearly posting this to show off that car and newsflash, it’s not a swoon worthy car. Scion doesn’t exactly scream luxury or performance, so there’s really no reason to brag. Besides, whether you own a Maserati or a 2001 Honda Civic, using a picture of you and your car on your online dating profile just makes you look like a tool.

Conclusion: The implied takeaway is that he’s just a normal guy with a nice little economical car (assuming he bought it and isn’t just doing his best Joey impression sans a sweet fanny pack). The actual takeaway is that he loves that car so much that he would probably treat it better than he would treat me, whether he owns it or just visits it at the dealership sometimes. As Si frequently says:

Si - Homey Don't Play That