What’s Something In Your Garage That Might Be A Relationship Red Flag?

Illustration for article titled Whats Something In Your Garage That Might Be A Relationship Red Flag?

Photo: Bradley Brownell

CountersteerYour true stories of good and bad things that happen in cars.

There is an incredibly good tweet going around the bird site right now which posits that you can tell whether a man is worthy of your time based upon his bookshelf. Things such as a well-worn copy of Infinite Jest—or anything by Ayn Rand—should be enough to get you to turn around and walk your ass right out of their life, or so says journalist Jess McHugh. She may be right, but I’m more interested in red flags of the automotive kind.


What could be in someone’s garage that would preclude them from making it to a second date? Let it be known that I am happily married to my high school sweetheart, so I have literally never been in “the dating game” but here are a few ideas that I had to add to the no-fuck list as it pertains to cars. If you see these things in their garage, just ghost them. It’s not worth the effort to fix them.

1. A dog-eared copy of their Haynes manual.

2. Too many parts to cars they no longer own

3. Any amount of French Car


5. A car in a greyscale paint color

6. “The Veyron is my favorite car”

7. “The Model S is my favorite car”


Add one more ‘for the record’ because many of the things on this list apply to me. I am the broken car man, and I likely cannot ever be fixed enough to be worth anything to society.

So, let’s hear it. What are your no-go zones when it comes to cars. Would you never be seen in public with anyone who drives a Prius? Would you loathe hearing about someone’s obsession with their split-window Corvette? Are you vehemently opposed to convertibles or SUVs or pre-war Cadillacs? Sound off in the comments below, I want to know what could be in someone’s garage that would have you looking for the exit door.

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[Please don’t take this list too seriously. My tongue is firmly planted in my cheek on this one, so don’t send me emails.]

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