1. The months of May, October, and early November are blocked out from trying to date anyone because you don’t have any paychecks coming in during those times.

The $300 end-of-season bonus check from the ski resort has to pay for gas and food so unless you can find someone whose ideal first date is red beans and rice prepared by campfire followed by drinking water and singing acoustic rock covers, it’s best to just write the shoulder seasons off as bad timing.

2. The main bartender at each one of the breweries up the street from your house has your number so that he can text you immediately in the instance that a group of college girls shows up.

It’s not creepy. It’s networking.

3. You went on a road trip to Denver to see String Cheese and tried talking a girl at a LoDo bar.

It seemed like it was going ok, but then her friend came up and took a photo of your hair with her phone and they both walked away laughing.

4. When you finally land a steady catch, you are embarrassed to introduce her to your friends because she only lives in town half the year.

Her parents have a summer home, and there’s no way your crew will accept her as a local. On the plus side, that means you can still act like a slob during the winter months.

5. Your conversation skills are limited.

For whatever reason, it’s hard to keep someone around when all you talk about is building out your Astrovan for next summer’s PNW river trip.

6. You spend most of your time at work researching the best hiking meet-up groups from three towns over.

It has to be at least three towns because you and each one of your friends have attempted to date every girl within a 50-mile radius, but they all have boyfriends already.

7. You had to pause the new Jeremy Jones movie halfway through because your ‘Netflix and chill’ partner needed to be let out to pee.

The landlord said he would put in a doggie door six months ago. Why does he keep tagging late fees onto your rent if he’s not going to put the money to good use?

8. Your best friend back home complains about not wanting to become a snow plow parent.

You tell them it’s not so bad and then email a link to that sweet Meyer you saw for sale.

9. You’ve learned the hard way that it’s difficult to prove to someone you love them when your entire budget is eaten up buying new gear each fall.

Those sales only happen once a year. Priorities!

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