So, as my you-need-gas-soon-light came on, I decided I'd fill up before heading home. I pull into the gas station, and find myself in a conversation with a stranger. Don't get me wrong now, I'm all for random conversations with strangers and even a little flirting, but if you're 15 years my senior and do not ride AND you start the convo with "Where's your man at?" then there is no way in hell you're getting my number. As a matter of fact, a snowball stands a better chance surviving hell and maintaining its snowball-iness than you stand a chance of getting my number.
Also, mentioning your income level is not a selling point. In fact, I find it kind of vain.
Pervert dude: "Where's your man at?"
Me: *looks around.* *shrugs* "Hmph. Guess he must've fallen off..."
That reminds me of that shirt which reads "If you can read this then the bitch fell off" on the back. I really ought to buy that shirt.