I have a friend who thinks that every Craigslist Missed Connection was written for her.

Seriously. It would say, “You: Blonde with eyes. Me: Guy on the train who was looking at you. Did we connect?” And she would stretch her arms and yawn and tell me, “I saw myself in Missed Connections today. Did you?”

The truth is, I have seen myself in Missed Connections. Once. But I didn’t respond. I do have a boyfriend, after all.

So why am I looking at Missed Connections in the first place?

BECAUSE I CAN’T STOP.

Take, for instance, the case of a random m4f in Chelsea: Read More »

So, I did it. I bit the bullet and posted a Missed Connection.

I couldn’t help myself. I had seen a cute boy on the subway. Adorable, actually. This kid was everything I had been hoping New York would have tucked away in one of its dirty, graffiti covered apartments. Everything I had dreamed I’d softly bump into one of these sultry nights on 2nd Avenue.

He wasn’t a skinny, nauseatingly dressed Hipster. He wasn’t a gelled Wallstreeter secretly hiding a yellowed wife-beater under a polished polo. He wasn’t a moody artist wearing eyeliner and hunching over a notebook covered in scrawling of his pain. He was adorably normal. Sweetly natural. Still un-New York-ified. Just like me.

I saw him on the R train heading uptown. The moment I sat down and spied him I became consumed with sneaking looks at his tired, boyish face. He was dressed like he worked in some kind of uptown office, black pants a little too short for his lanky legs, old school headphones perched atop endearingly tousled brown hair. For 15 minutes I looked at him whenever he looked somewhere else.

All too soon he got off. I tried to watch him leave, but my vision was blocked by a marvelously fat guy and his incredibly giant lunch bag. 15 minutes was hardly long enough. I wanted more time with this specimen of cuteness. Read More »