Location: Fort Wayne, Indiana
How We Met: Uber driver gave me his number
Length of relationship/friendship: March 2016 to August 2, 2016
I was having continual car trouble on and off from November 2015. It was right after I came back from a wonderful week in San Francisco. Figures--less than 48 hours back home and everything goes to shit.
One of the Uber drivers I used in March gave me the number of a mechanic starting up on his own. She sung his praises. His prices were very reasonable and he was honest.
To his credit, he fixed what was wrong with the Neon. Or rather, he took it some place that figured it out. This, after McMahon Tire and Goodyear either "fixed" the problem and charged me, or looked at it, pronounced the car fine, and charged me $50. He charged me less than it cost for McMahon to "fix" it--and he actually FIXED it. (Crank sensor.)
So I took my car to him again. His shop was close to my house, I could walk there if I needed to. And he was very reasonable in terms of prices. Everything seemed okay. Until August 2.
I was at Cedar Point again, and I got a text on the status of my car. The overheating problem was solved. The oil still needed to be changed, and he was waiting on the latch for the hatchback, which still wasn't working right (this was the second trip to get this fixed.)
The mechanic said his phone was randomly sending pics during texts. You know what's coming, right? His phone "accidentally" sent not one, not two, not three, but FOUR pictures of him in various stages of undress. The last one left no question as to what it was.
Dive-bombed again. I tend to be way too naive when it comes to things and people, especially men, so I'll just assume that all men are total asshole pigs until they prove themselves otherwise. Because of men's nonsense, I can't believe them, nor do I know when they are telling the truth. I'm not going to apologize for this attitude. Forget that. YOU prove to me you're not an asshole.
I only wish I'd sent this one to him and said, "My cock is bigger."