So Sunday, I partook in one of my favorite pass-times, sans the vodka. I walk in, peruse the isles. Spend time in the produce section, get my favorite frozen thing-a-ma-jigs, checkout, and head back to my car...nothing unusual from the previous Sundays...except this Sunday, “Gustav” is waiting on me.
Just like me, “Gustav” is there every Sunday too. Perhaps because he works there. Or maybe
I’m not a job snob, as about 70% (probably more) of the guys I dated do not have “white collar” 9-5 desk jobs. I’ve dated everything from mission impossible top security military, to “life-long” college students, I promise I won’t go postal mailmen.
In saying that, I usually don’t find out what the occupation is, until after the first, second, or third
In saying all of this...I gave Gustav my number...but I would hope this is his side hustle, while he moonlights as a
Are you a job snob, why or why not?