Missed Connections, Missed Socialization Lessons

If you don’t already read the Craigslist Missed Connections for your town, you totally should start doing so. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Missed Connections are the section of the classifieds in which people post ads to specific strangers. Like, if you met someone at a club last night and she gave you her number, but you lost her number, and you also forgot her name, because you were completely wasted, then you might want to post a Missed Connection ad in search of her.

Or, like, if you saw a handsome stranger at Home Depot, and he smiled at you in an inviting way, but then a meteor hit the earth and everybody died, preventing you from getting his phone number, then you might like to post an ad in the Missed Connections section of the paper in the afterlife, in case he sees it there and wants to hook up.

I periodically read Houston’s Missed Connections, not because I suspect that any stranger might have fallen in love with me at a nearby Starbuck’s, but because they’re pathetically hilarious. The majority of them fall into five main types of sadness, which I will chronicle for you here.

1. Way Overconfident Men

You: Hot blonde, about 5’6″ and 114 lbs, wearing a denim skirt that showed off your cute pink and white striped panties when you bent over to pick up your baby’s toy. Me: Interested in getting to know you better, possibly for more than just a one-night stand. Contact me ASAP.

2. Women Whose Insecurity Renders Their Ads Pointless

I saw you again last night at Memorial Park. You’re the bike cop with the impossibly beautiful eyes. You probably wouldn’t be interested in me, since my BMI is 19% and I have cellulite on the underside of my buttocks, and my cup size is only B and I can’t yet afford the plastic surgery I so desperately need. And you’re probably married, too. Or gay. But I just wanted to post this ad to tell you that you’re gorgeous, and seeing you each afternoon is the highlight of my day, and whoever your wife (or partner) is, she (or he) is very, very lucky!

3. The Very Promiscuous

We met briefly last night at MBar. You wore a pale blue American Apparel summer shirt, I wore a white Abercrombie tank and blew you in the second stall. Get in touch with me — I need to share test results.

4. The Desperate High School Shout-Out

Anybody know Belinda F. from Austin High class of ’89? If so, please tell her to call Reynaldo from her 3rd period Fundamentals of Math. It’s an emergency. I need to know how you’re doing, Belinda. I need to know what you’ve been doing since graduation.

5. The Unintelligible

To: You Know Who. From: The One You Hurt. My question is, Why? Why did you do it? No one had to know about it but you and me, and her. Why did you have to destroy everything, including my heart? And my credit?

Have you ever posted a Missed Connections ad? Do you know anyone who has? Do you know anyone who actually found love (or sex) through one? Please share.

New Banks = KHAN!

My boyfriend and I get our hearts broken, locally, on a weekly basis. Why? Well, there’s a lot of development going on in Houston lately. Lots of new shopping centers are going up like wildfire. We see one going up near work, and what do we do? We dream.

Him: “Maybe it’s a new restaurant. Maybe it’s something good, like sushi or pho. Or sushi-pho fusion.”

Me: “Or bubble tea! Maybe it’s sushi and pho with bubble tea!”

Him: “Yeah! And po’ boy sandwiches with marinated hot peppers! Or, hey, maybe it’s a store.”

Me: “Yeah! A shoe store, maybe. Or a wholesale jewelry store. Or a craft supply store! With bubble tea and low-calorie sandwiches! And a wine bar, and free babysitting! And roller-skate rental!”

So we watch the new development, driving slowly around its block each day. And then, finally, the sign goes up. It says:

FIRST NATIONAL TUMBLEWEED BANK.

Or:

WASHKAHATCHIE BANK

Or:

THE PEOPLE’S CREDIT UNION OF UNITED FARM TEACHERS

Because, I swear, nine times out of ten, it’s a freaking bank. And my boyfriend and I look at each other, and we sigh. A tear runs down each of our cheeks. We wonder aloud who has such pressing need for so many effing bank branches.

And then we move on to the next development.

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Posted in culture, Houston, venting on 09/13/2007 11:09 am
 
 

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