Graffiti Night veteran needs a co-pilot

Every June when the classic cars roll down Tenth Street for Graffiti Night I get stupid happy, and this year I don't want to stand on the curb alone. I'm twenty-eight, work at a credit union downtown, and I've been single since my last boyfriend took a job in Reno and didn't ask me to come. I'm over it. I want a man who knows the difference between a Chevy and a Ford and won't roll his eyes when I get it wrong but try to correct me anyway. I host a decent barbecue, I sing in the car, and I've never missed a MoBand summer concert at Graceada Park. Be someone who shows up when he says he will and we'll get along fine.