You’re dating a guy named Frank. He surfs a lot, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him go to work.

You’re on the way back from work, driving past the beach as usual to see if Frank’s there, when you suddenly hear your car beeping. You pull over into a parking spot to see what it was. You’re out of gas.

You sigh, getting out and beginning to walk on the beach. Might as well enjoy if you’re stuck at it. You sit on the sand where you see Frank’s stuff.

A few minutes later, he comes over, his hair wet, carrying his board.

“What’s up, hotstuff?” He asks, shaking his wet hair.