We have a pal that is troubled by small caps. Felt caps.
Straw caps. Occasionally denim or corduroy hats—they follow her about on Bumble. She’ll faucet through three objectively attractive profile images of a possible suitor, and then—agggggghhhhh—in the 4th he’s dressed in somewhat cap. Merely whenever she’s about to swipe appropriate, the fedoras seem, cockblocks delivered from hell to wreck the woman. Often, everything else about these boys is great, antique sweetheart materials: he’s got a pleasant blend of qualities she finds sexy/endearing/impressive (abs), they have a good job and a Ph.D., and he doesn’t have shirtless selfies no pictures of your intoxicated with a team of Instagram designs. (more…)