Occasionally I browse the "Missed Connections" files on Craig's List. Good old fashioned stalking never hurt anyone, right? I mean, MC is a place for people to profess their undying love and allow themselves to think for a moment that their very own missed connection peruses these files in hopes of finding that one person who stared at them inappropriately in Starbucks the other day, because clearly, it's a moment worthy of a Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks movie remake.
Get real.
Although today, I felt as though I was becoming someone's missed connection on my way home.
Here is what I expect to find later tonight on MC.
"Brown line-loop-m4w
I saw you as you got on the train at (insert stop here). Our eyes met. You looked away quickly, but then gave me a half smile. I know you are probably shy, but I think we have something.
You were wearing (lavish compliment describing my amazing coat that I love) and carrying your (bold color description) handbag. You have lovely (exotic description of my eye color) and your hair reminded me of (strange reference to an obscure actress's hairstyle). I'm sure you were just getting off of work, we are all ready for the weekend.
You'll probably never read this, but I'd like to see your smile again. Message me and tell me what I was wearing. I know it's the beginning of true love."
Then you'll see:
"Re: Brown line-loop
I saw you too. I didn't sit next to you on purpose. You weren't bad looking or anything, but I didn't like your insistent eye contact and full smile. I half smiled because I didn't want to be rude. I'm buying a new coat now, and will no longer carry that handbag. You're in luck because this weekend I'm visiting my eye doctor and getting colored contacts. I plan to stop by the hair salon immediately after. I was getting off of work, but I'm changing my hours, my place of employment, and my route. Yes, we are all ready for the weekend.
I only read this for entertainment. If I see your smile again, I'll have nightmares. I don't remember what you were wearing because I'm not creepy. It's not true love, I don't love you.
Have a great weekend!"
Yeah. I'm pretty sure it would go a little something like that.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Get rid of those sideburns.
Really.
Mutton chops haven't been in for a very long time, so get rid of those sideburns please.
That means you, strange person with hair down to your elbows and really awkward sideburns. I don't understand why you kept looking my direction. I only made eye contact to remind you that I was not afraid of you, not because I wanted you to ask for my number. Thank you, though, for not asking for my number.
And yes, I saw you look through the window after you got off the train, and you still creeped me out. Ugh. You live in my neighborhood too. Awesome. Awesome.
Get rid of the sideburns. No one can take you seriously.
Mutton chops haven't been in for a very long time, so get rid of those sideburns please.
That means you, strange person with hair down to your elbows and really awkward sideburns. I don't understand why you kept looking my direction. I only made eye contact to remind you that I was not afraid of you, not because I wanted you to ask for my number. Thank you, though, for not asking for my number.
And yes, I saw you look through the window after you got off the train, and you still creeped me out. Ugh. You live in my neighborhood too. Awesome. Awesome.
Get rid of the sideburns. No one can take you seriously.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
I can't believe I forgot to mention...
Dear Mr. Fitness Man:
Don't worry. I see you. You in your cut off tshirt with the name of your gym across the front. You carrying your gym bag and wearing adidas running pants. You and your shiny white sneakers.
Mr. Fitness Man. I see you are trying to flex your biceps as you walk past. That's ok, but that's not the distraction. The distraction, my dear sir, is that you just spit in front of me.
That really grosses me out. It doesn't make you more manly, or cool. It spreads diseases and your mother would be ashamed of you.
Sincerely,
Commuterology.
Don't worry. I see you. You in your cut off tshirt with the name of your gym across the front. You carrying your gym bag and wearing adidas running pants. You and your shiny white sneakers.
Mr. Fitness Man. I see you are trying to flex your biceps as you walk past. That's ok, but that's not the distraction. The distraction, my dear sir, is that you just spit in front of me.
That really grosses me out. It doesn't make you more manly, or cool. It spreads diseases and your mother would be ashamed of you.
Sincerely,
Commuterology.
I wish I could repeat to you the conversation I overheard today on the train, but it goes against my own moral code to relay the information. Let's just say it was crazy and shocking.
Today the train was already crowded before 7am. I am also having problems with my CTA card again. I think they just don't like me...but it could be that I'm too non-confrontational to speak up. Lamesauce. (Yes, I know that phrase is lame, but I've started using it a lot, get used to it).
There was a gentleman on the Blue line this morning with a cup of coffee in hand. That didn't strike me as abnormal, but what did tip me off to his slight lack of social awareness when we made eye contact and he got all bug eyed. It was weird, and I think maybe he had way too much caffeine already, or I had not enough caffeine at all, but, sir, your bug eyed glances were not welcome.
The advantage to speaking another language or two other than English is that you can understand multiple conversations when people think you're clueless. I enjoy this. It's mildly unethical, and most certainly rude, but I do enjoy a little eavesdropping now and again.
Today the ratio of normal to crazy was very disproportionate. Very. In favor of the crazies.
In other news....yesterday I saw the Pirate man again. I really wanted to stay on the train so I could stare at him...but again, that's rude, and really creepy, and I needed to get home.
Today the train was already crowded before 7am. I am also having problems with my CTA card again. I think they just don't like me...but it could be that I'm too non-confrontational to speak up. Lamesauce. (Yes, I know that phrase is lame, but I've started using it a lot, get used to it).
There was a gentleman on the Blue line this morning with a cup of coffee in hand. That didn't strike me as abnormal, but what did tip me off to his slight lack of social awareness when we made eye contact and he got all bug eyed. It was weird, and I think maybe he had way too much caffeine already, or I had not enough caffeine at all, but, sir, your bug eyed glances were not welcome.
The advantage to speaking another language or two other than English is that you can understand multiple conversations when people think you're clueless. I enjoy this. It's mildly unethical, and most certainly rude, but I do enjoy a little eavesdropping now and again.
Today the ratio of normal to crazy was very disproportionate. Very. In favor of the crazies.
In other news....yesterday I saw the Pirate man again. I really wanted to stay on the train so I could stare at him...but again, that's rude, and really creepy, and I needed to get home.
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