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M4W: The One Where I Eat My Words And Write A Missed Connection

Yeah, yeah, yeah; alright I fucking did it. I gave this girl and that girl a ton of shit for their missed connections and then I stumbled right into one of my own. I talked so much about not being allowed to talk to girls in public places, that when the one exception to that rule arose I stood there like a deer in the headlights. Shame on me. Shame on my cowardice. Shame on the curse this blog life has put upon me. 

 

I was minding my own business trying to figure out why my landlord was charging me an extra 200 bucks for heat this month when I looked up to see you smiling at me at the intersection of flatbush avenue and dean street. I like smiling so I smiled back, and then the sparks started to fly. We stared at each other as we passed shoulders in the busy street. I was (am?) the tall guy. Like, the really tall guy. Like, tall enough to make a little kid cry (it’s happened and this is the only time I’ll speak of it). I was pretty sure I dreamt the whole thing so I turned around to make sure you weren’t a visage, and you also simultaneously turned around to look at me. Needless to say, I froze in my tracks and almost got hit by a car. 

Update: I didn’t. I’m safe. Don’t worry.

I didn’t know what to do in that situation. Chasing after you seemed a little scary. I think that works in movies and nowhere else. Calling after you also probably would have been scary and most people who yell on flatbush are legitimately crazy, so here I am: the missed connections page of craigslist.

I’ll be straight up, I just finished reading about this girl who posted a missed connection online and then threw it up on a billboard provided by Park MGM. It did not end well for her. Most awkward thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t need that much help being shamed because of what I put on the internet, so I’m not going to do that. It’s not that I don’t like romantic gestures: I do. I promise I’ll do lots of romantic things if we find each other in this anonymous community of IP addresses and decide to romance, but billboards are out of the question for me.I thought you were pretty, and you either thought I was pretty or that I looked like someone you knew, or both of those things. Honestly I’ll take either. If this was you, let me know what type of food you were eating as you walked by.

 

p.s. Park MGM don’t you fucking dare put this on a billboard. Get your dirty mitts off of my missed connection.

This is my life now. The universe reads my blog and then fucks me sideways. A smarter man would learn how to manipulate this system for his benefit, but I'll just take this curse as my fate and move on to the next moment of internet humiliation.