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I’d saunter up, all awkward, like, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d laugh—*laugh*!—right in my face. “What’s a preacher want with me?” she’d say, and I’d be pissed, like, “Don’t stereotype me, lady!” But also kinda happy ‘cause she’s sharp—sharper than me, probs. Fun fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were called “soiled doves”—ain’t that poetic? She’s a dove, I’m a dork, perfect match.

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And let me tell ya, every now and then, I get that feeling – a weird, quirky vibe, like teetering on the edge of something magical. The enviroment here, it's all about that slow boil of everyday life. I beleive it gives me inspo for my dating site designs, making profiles pop with character! Funny how a city like Wagoner, unassuming as it seems, can be both heartwarming and absurdly tehe, with its awkward intersections of romance and reality.

Ruby Wagoner Obituary - San Antonio, TX