junk in the trunk

This post is really an exercise in stereotypes. But it happens to be true.

This past Wednesday I visited the DMV to replace my tags and registration after the original front plate was lost/stolen/disappeared into the ether. As someone who knows the difference between a Phillips and a flathead screwdriver and who has single-handedly assembled a few pieces of IKEA furniture, I didn’t think removing the back plate would be a problem. I was wrong. The thing clung to the back bumper as if it had been welded there. The cheap screws I’d used to put it on were getting stripped with each turn of the screwdriver. I was stuck.

Astonishing Fact #1: Helpful DMV Employee

I gave my registration, driver’s license, and police report number to the DMV employee. He asked where the remaining plate was. When I sheepishly explained that I couldn’t get it off the car, he rolled up his sleeves, got up from behind the counter, and told me to meet him in the parking lot. Ten minutes later we were trying to pry the plate off the car. While he left to find bigger and better tools, the next unexpected event occurred…

Astonishing Fact #2: Helpful Bystanders 

While Thomas the incredibly helpful DMV clerk was off trying to find a wrench, a succession of taxidrivers, bystanders, and fellow drivers stopped by to offer assistance. I was afraid one cab driver was actually going to throw his back out attempting to unscrew that plate. He left unscathed, but I was truly touched that people (ok, men) were genuinely trying to get the situation fixed. For atmosphere, someone in an SUV was cruising the lot with “Shake Your Ass” on the stereo.

Astonishing Fact #3: Man with Power Tool

The final Good Samaritan, a fortysomething man driving a luxury car, stopped by and offered a screwdriver. When I explained I that was looking for the next level of tool, he went to his car and came back with a power drill. In 4.8 seconds the plate was off.

I grabbed the plate, flagged Thomas down, and was out the door lickety-split with new tags, new registration, and a new respect for hyper-prepared men in cars that are worth more than my annual salary.

Lessons Learned:

1. Don’t underestimate the DC DMV.

2. It’s good to be a girl.

3. It’s good to be a guy who gives a gal a hand. Want to make a good impression? Follow the Boy Scout motto and Be Prepared.

stop asking me to hang out

Keeping in line with the “How to Wreck it With a Girl” impetus that started this blog, asking her to hang out might be a surefire way to do it.

Why is hanging out a bad thing? It’s not, if it’s with your friends. Your platonic friends, that is. Introducing this phrase into a relationship not intended as platonic is a bad idea. Five reasons why:

1. It’s vague. Like business casual, hanging out is notoriously ill-defined. Not only is the person unsure what they’re agreeing to, but the responsibilities of the person doing the asking are unclear. Email? Text message? Plans that week, next week, never? You get the idea.

2. It’s cowardly. Maybe the offer to hang out is a face-saving measure in case it backfires. But if you’re interested in pursuing someone, ask them on a proper date. The hanging out crap isn’t fooling anyone, except in Scenario #4.

3. It’s unoriginal. While it can mean anything, it can also mean nothing. Get out of the rut and be a grownup and express your intentions. What exactly is it you envision spending time together doing? And why would you want to be like every other inarticulate sot who uses the hanging out brush to indiscriminately classify every activity of their life?

4. It wastes time. It’s a total invitation to place all the initiative on the other party who not only has to uncover what your intent is and what hanging out means, but they might actually feel the onus to determine how, when, and where as well. This scenario is most likely with Type A personalities. However, relationships abhor a vacuum, sort of like those uncomfortable silences. Avoid them. Have a plan. 

5. It’s been done. Whomever this person is that you’d like to hang out with, they’re probably hanging out with lots of people already. So, unless you’ve got something really cool to offer like Rock Band or a beach house or a private island, their hanging out needs may well be met. Own up and ask ‘em out, and take things to the next level.

what not to wear: tight pants

What started with a few hipsters and band boys is becoming alarmingly common. If anyone has seen The Kings of Leon, or even just your local emo group, you know exactly what Heels on Friday is talking about. Tight pants. Pants so impossibly tight, you wonder if, like Olivia Newton John, the wearer had to be sewn into them.

Not only are these pants tight, they are also tapered. This is not a forgiving cut on anyone, especially not a male who, more often than not, has a bit extra on top. Muffin top, pudge, beer belly, whatever you want to call it, its there, usually highlighted by a tight t-shirt. This is unfortunate, becase a tight t-shirt worn well is one of the sexiest things out there, especially if it suggests a hint of well-defined abs and biceps. Notice a hint – even if you’re built like Michael Phelps, there’s no excuse for a cropped t-shirt, one that is made out of mesh, or one that adheres so tightly to your torso it could’ve been airbrushed on.

The overall look of tight, tapered pants plus tight T over bulging tummy suggests something of a beetle, with a squashy middle and weak appendages jutting out on the sides. The general pallor from too many late gigs and not enough sunlight, accompanied by thick-framed glasses, completes the look.

The look does not look good. It’s tolerated, because women like men who are in bands. Some women like men who are famous (who also may be in bands.) But Heels on Friday is telling you, begging you, imploring you – it doesn’t look good.

memory lane

The grass is always greener. Or so the adage goes. And this can sometimes seem especially true in singledom when there’s a dry spell. Friday nights without any plans, long weekends, vacation season of the holidays looking can add a little extra temptation to wonder if you’re really better off flying solo.

Sometimes time apart really can give clarity and enough perspective to reassess the relationship,  and decide that it was right in the first place. But being with someone just to avoid being alone is selling everyone short. Noone wants, or deserves to be, a placeholder.

So what to do with your suddenly free social calendar? Or even if you’ve embraced singlehood for awhile, your mojo might need a bit of a boost. Boredom can trump even the best judgement!

First, take the time to really get comfortable with yourself again. Learn to enjoy the solitude and catch up with yourself. Take walks, read, journal, spend a night watching movies you always meant to see but never had time. The break might be refreshing – look at it as a mental vacation, rather than an enforced experience of being unplugged.

Next, don’t panic. The economy has cycles, politics has cycles, and guess what? Your life does, too. It can be tough to keep restlessness and frustration in check when there’s a dry period with no prospects in sight, but things won’t stay that way forever. Build the life you want and don’t wait for the relationship.

Finally, make some plans. There’s frenetic activity that smacks of desperation when every hour has to be filled in order to keep panic at bay. Learn to structure in activities that you enjoy without going overboard. Don’t make every activity a prospecting one!Cultivate your friendships, get going at the gym, pursue a hobby, take a class. Before you know it, the hours will fill easily. The important thing is to do activities you enjoy as ends in themselves.

Let the nostalgia show you the best parts of the ended relationship so you know what to look for the next time around. And in most cases, keeping it alive in your memory is the best place for it. Things ended for a reason. Before drifting to what’s known and comfortable, let yourself really experience the beghinning of something new.