If you are seeking a picture of the ever-elusive Val, you need go no further than the next edition of Merriam-Webster. I'm sure my photo will be under the definition of altruist.
I stopped to put gas in my Tahoe this afternoon. A tad less than half a tank, just to top it off for the trip to take Genius to have his wisdom teeth removed on Thursday. The total came to $39.40. I went inside to pay. I don't trust those scammable card-sliders on the pumps. The clerk greeted me cheerfully. Probably because it's not a gas station that I frequent. She didn't know any better.
"That'll be thirty-four ninety, Hon."
"Uh...I'm pretty sure it was thirty-nine forty."
"Oh. Well. That's right. Thirty-nine forty. Here's your sixty cents."
"You have a nice day."
See that? I saved the poor girl from eating $4.50 when her register didn't balance. Because I was honest. That's how I roll. Sometimes. When people are polite.
You might also look for my photo under conspiracy theorist, megalomaniac, Rubenesque, boorish, short-temper cook, gas-station-chicken-eater, Seinfeld enthusiast, procrastinator, braggart, snooze-inducer, quipster doofus, recliner whiner, and nerd.
My face, it seems, is a coat of many colors, wearing a lot of hats.