I am OBSESSED with Missed Connections.
In my history of sex addiction, Craigslist was really the kerosene to my lit match, and if you ask my therapist, I'm not even really supposed to be on there. But while I know I can't step Internet foot into the Casual Encounters section, Missed Connections feels like a wholesome kid sister just tagging along with her addmittedly whorey older sibling. Missed Connections is sweet, even romantic -- and the fantasy that someone will glimpse me and need to know more is intoxicating without being self-destructive.
And while I'm sure this all sounds very vain, I have a few reasons for actually sort of expecting to see myself there someday.
1. I meet a lot of men on the train.
Sure, I've been relationshipped for most of my adult life, but eye sex aint cheating, baby. And honestly, after a lengthy bout of monogamy, a lady needs a little something to put the pep back in her step. It's the same reason couples hang out with other couples -- so everybody can drink too much and hit on each other a little without major imminent threat of infidelity. Seriously, half those three-hour double date dinners are basically emotional key parties.
The point being, I look at cute boys on the train. And they look back at me. And over the years, this has resulted in a handful of ego-boosting business cards, notes and tattered phone numbers slipped my way. 'Cause I still got it, bitches!
Aside from the shitty lighting, my morning train ride is the best-looking part of my day -- my makeup is fresh, my lipstick just applied and my confidence at its highest point before the world and Internet begin their slow daily trample over it. Why shouldn't I get noticed, and where do the cute shy boys of Brooklyn trains go to document their noticings but Craigslist Missed Connections?
2. I actually had a missed connection once before.
Did I ever tell you guys about this?! It was 2008, and I'd headed to work in pigtails and my vintage cat-eye glasses on the R train. I was halfway through my 10 am Diet Coke when someone emailed me the link with the subject line "Is this you?"
The post read:
“R train at 8:45am this morning in Brooklyn. Me 5’11″, blue eyes, short light brown hair, black jeans, black DAMAGED t-shirt. I had headphones on, I was sitting down on an NTC bound R train. You tall, sexy as hell, glasses, a skirt, hair in a pigtails, tattoos, you also had headphones on. We were looking at each other a LOT … and I REALLY should have said hello! GET IN TOUCH.”
No doubt about it, it was me, and Mr. Damned shirt thought I was "sexy as hell"! It was the culmination of all my dreams and it felt amazing. I knew I was going to reach out -- I mean, I couldn't just leave the poor guy just stewing in his unrequited love for me.
After screenshotting the ad and sending it around to everyone I have ever met, I sent him an email reading, “Hi! I’m the girl from the R train this morning, and I saw your post. I’m in a committed relationship, but I’m totally flattered, and thanks for making my lifelong dream of popping up in the Missed Connections come true!”
He turned out to be kind of a scumbag who had a girlfriend and sent me graphic email massages about how he wanted to cum on my face and stuff for the next several months, but still -- ROMANTIC!
Anyway, that was like 5 years ago but I still check MC pretty much every day, searching for keywords like "tattoos," "tall," and my name in case someone who knows me is trying to get my attention. I'd actually be pretty embarassed if you could see some of the ads I've clicked on thinking that they could be me -- but hey, I could be a "gorgeous model-type" to somebody.And the thing is, even if I were looking to meet someone, I know Missed Connections is kind of an empty fantasy. As much as I want to believe that my hypothetical ad-placer is enamored with my vintage hairstyle or the John Dillinger biography I'm reading, it was most likely my tits that caught his eye, just like any other man anywhere. Besides which, you truly truly cannot judge a book by its cover. Just because someone's meat suit triggers your reproductive drives doesn't mean you'll have anything to say to them.