By our estimates, the average Missed Connections participant has a screw or two loose. On a scale of one to Lady Gaga, most would land squarely in Liza Minnelli—in other words, in not-quite-deranged-but-not-normal-either territory. This week, however, we have some posters who have skyrocketed to Michaele Salahi levels of lunacy. Are these cries for help or just cries for attention? Perhaps a little of both.
i had the dinner at sticky rice the other night lawdy lawdy there was a womans there
this womans had on sandals of some sort, and a sunddress that reminded me of one that Athena would wear
lawdy lawdy i think that you was really cute, you was eating sushi and drinking beers
you should email me we can talk about things i enjoy, such things as will and grace, hall and oates singles (and which one was the cuter tee hee hee) and interesting facts about ships in the potomac
i have a good job, i work for a defense contractor
please email me i am ever so lonely and am nice man thank you billy myers
It may look nonsensical now, but give this post a twangy backing track and ol’ Billy here could be a country superstar in the making.
I’m probably stupid to post this. . . Thought I got a smile out of you when we talked tonight. . . You’re cute and I presume from the setting that we have politics in common!
If you see this, send a description of you, me, or both.
Only in Washington . . .
lil lady with the baby unicorn–m4w–31 (arlington) Date: 2010-10-13, 7:41PM EDT
I saw you in arlington waiting for the bus near columbia pike and south monroe. You wore a white shirt, with frilly things and tight jeans that showed off your veloptousness. To your right there was a lil blue unicorn and i asked about it. You said it was your lil unicorn used mainly for good luck and protection. You staired into my eyes, and i into yours. We chatted for hours about all types of things, like about the tasty tongue soup at El Migueleno Ranchero. Please remember, me, I had a jean jacket on with a sweet bandana around my wrist. I fell for you.
The spelling. The soup. The . . . unicorn? We don’t know where to begin, so we’ll leave it at that.
Life–m4w–33 (Mo Co) Date: 2010-10-14, 1:51PM EDT
I missed my connection with life.
Warning bells are ringing. Step away from the computer. We repeat, step away!
As the 2pm panel discussion prepared to get underway, I took my seat among the throng of eager economic reporters preparing for the latest IMF remarks. Out of habit, I scanned the room in search of familiar faces when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted you hidden behind your camera not far from the stage. You stood tall, handsome in your sharp, pressed suit and brunette goatee. As inconspicously as I could, I stole glances at you the entire briefing. My heart raced at the sight of you. My mind reeled as I tried to keep the blue laptop balanced on my lap and take notes in unison. Your striking resemblence to someone I once loved, my first adolescent love, was uncanny. Your height, your weight, your stance, that look—so strikingly similar. My heart raced for those first few moments while I entertained the throught that you were perhaps the same boy to whom I had once pledged eternal, undying love before our paths diverged, as most young love inevitibly does. And for those fleeting momets I was 18 years old again, giddy and wrought with nervous energy, sitting as calmly and as composed as I could while Strauss-Kahn discussed “currency wars.” As any detailed photographer, I’m sure my double, triple and quadruple-takes did not go unoticed. I fought the impulse to introduce myself after the briefing only after I saw that silver band on your finger. It was only upon reflection that I realized it was actually worn on your right hand. Although chances are slim that our paths will ever cross again, I want to thank you for resucitating that long-forgotten sensation I once knew in my adolescent love. Just one glance and I was transformed, albeit briefly.
Missed Connections: Questionable-Sanity Edition
Love strikes at Sticky Rice, over unicorns, and at the International Monetary Fund
By our estimates, the average Missed Connections participant has a screw or two loose. On a scale of one to Lady Gaga, most would land squarely in Liza Minnelli—in other words, in not-quite-deranged-but-not-normal-either territory. This week, however, we have some posters who have skyrocketed to Michaele Salahi levels of lunacy. Are these cries for help or just cries for attention? Perhaps a little of both.
Sticky Rice–m4w–41 (Chinatown)
Date: 2010-10-13, 2:48PM EDT
hi my name is billy myers how you doing today
i had the dinner at sticky rice the other night lawdy lawdy there was a womans there
this womans had on sandals of some sort, and a sunddress that reminded me of one that Athena would wear
lawdy lawdy i think that you was really cute, you was eating sushi and drinking beers
you should email me we can talk about things i enjoy, such things as will and grace, hall and oates singles (and which one was the cuter tee hee hee) and interesting facts about ships in the potomac
i have a good job, i work for a defense contractor
please email me i am ever so lonely and am nice man thank you
billy myers
It may look nonsensical now, but give this post a twangy backing track and ol’ Billy here could be a country superstar in the making.
phonebank tonight–m4m–23 (DC)
Date: 2010-10-13, 9:12PM EDT
I’m probably stupid to post this. . . Thought I got a smile out of you when we talked tonight. . . You’re cute and I presume from the setting that we have politics in common!
If you see this, send a description of you, me, or both.
Only in Washington . . .
lil lady with the baby unicorn–m4w–31 (arlington)
Date: 2010-10-13, 7:41PM EDT
I saw you in arlington waiting for the bus near columbia pike and south monroe. You wore a white shirt, with frilly things and tight jeans that showed off your veloptousness. To your right there was a lil blue unicorn and i asked about it. You said it was your lil unicorn used mainly for good luck and protection. You staired into my eyes, and i into yours. We chatted for hours about all types of things, like about the tasty tongue soup at El Migueleno Ranchero. Please remember, me, I had a jean jacket on with a sweet bandana around my wrist. I fell for you.
The spelling. The soup. The . . . unicorn? We don’t know where to begin, so we’ll leave it at that.
Life–m4w–33 (Mo Co)
Date: 2010-10-14, 1:51PM EDT
I missed my connection with life.
Warning bells are ringing. Step away from the computer. We repeat, step away!
Dnanakeviv Radnusmaihs–w4m–29 (Beltsville)
Date: 2010-10-13, 10:09PM EDT
looking for the man in the posting title. . . your name is spelled backwards =)
Backward or forward, it still makes no sense.
You: Cameraman Me: Reporter–w4m (NW DC)
Date: 2010-10-10, 12:03AM EDT
As the 2pm panel discussion prepared to get underway, I took my seat among the throng of eager economic reporters preparing for the latest IMF remarks. Out of habit, I scanned the room in search of familiar faces when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted you hidden behind your camera not far from the stage. You stood tall, handsome in your sharp, pressed suit and brunette goatee. As inconspicously as I could, I stole glances at you the entire briefing. My heart raced at the sight of you. My mind reeled as I tried to keep the blue laptop balanced on my lap and take notes in unison.
Your striking resemblence to someone I once loved, my first adolescent love, was uncanny. Your height, your weight, your stance, that look—so strikingly similar. My heart raced for those first few moments while I entertained the throught that you were perhaps the same boy to whom I had once pledged eternal, undying love before our paths diverged, as most young love inevitibly does.
And for those fleeting momets I was 18 years old again, giddy and wrought with nervous energy, sitting as calmly and as composed as I could while Strauss-Kahn discussed “currency wars.”
As any detailed photographer, I’m sure my double, triple and quadruple-takes did not go unoticed. I fought the impulse to introduce myself after the briefing only after I saw that silver band on your finger. It was only upon reflection that I realized it was actually worn on your right hand.
Although chances are slim that our paths will ever cross again, I want to thank you for resucitating that long-forgotten sensation I once knew in my adolescent love. Just one glance and I was transformed, albeit briefly.
Any guesses on where she works?
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