(This of course does not include posts from our contributers)
october 13th- you: eating spaghetti - w4m (East Village)
you: eating spaghetti
me: walking past you on the street. watchin you eat spaghetti.
lets get married or touch boobs
(if he doesn't see this, it's a damn shame!)
Showing posts with label it tastes better that way. Show all posts
Showing posts with label it tastes better that way. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Curly's Last Stand
Previously on Misconnecting in the City...
Alex hears back from an unlikely Missed Connection. They plan a hot date in the produce aisle.
***
So remember that picture I showed you of the corner where I was supposed to meet Curly? Well, instead of looking like this:
It looked more like this:
Apparently the San Gennaro Street Fair was happening on that particular corner. The air was thick with smoke from burning corn dogs and the sidewalk was crawling with cops and Italians. I shouldered my way through the crowd, scanning the masses for curly hair and a brown t-shirt bearing a single word.
As I made my way across the street, I looked up and saw a very large, middle-aged man smiling in my direction, a giant stuffed tiger partially blocking his brown shirt. He started toward me and my heart stopped. Suddenly, he shifted the tiger under his arm to reveal a wordless t-shirt. I let out my breath as he passed.
A few moments later, I decided to walk in the direction of Curly's work, thinking I might have a better chance of running into him outside the crowd. Suddenly, a very short, pudgy guy barreled past me in a way that said "I am extremely Type A and am also wearing a very nerdy backpack."
He was also wearing a brown t-shirt.
Furthermore, one look at his mop of poorly-coiffed brown hair and my heart sank. This was neither Hot Dude from Mercer Street nor was it Also Hot Dude from MySpace Music. This was Not At All Hot Dude Who is Running to Meet Me on the Corner of Mulberry and Spring Because He is One Minute Late While Also Wearing a Very Nerdy Backpack.
Oh my god.
I decided to take a deep breath and wait another minute. Maybe that wasn't him. Surely "brown shirt and curly hair" could describe at least three guys standing on this street corner. I waited another minute.
I finally decided to make my way across the street (and the literally ten zillion people) to the park, which was our official meeting place and Little Napolean is standing right there and he definitely has some sort of word on his brown shirt and oh my god, he's on his cell phone, he's probably calling me, RUN.
And so I ran.
It took me two full blocks to realize that I am actually the biggest jerk in the tri-state area. Did I seriously just stand someone up? Because he's punctual and is concerned about proper spinal alignment? Yes, I have a huge project sitting at home that's due tomorrow but people have feelings, dammit, and you march yourself right back there, missy.
So I went back.
And he was gone.
So I went to Whole Foods.
And I bought ice cream.
Which I am eating right now.
Out of the carton.
Good night.
Alex hears back from an unlikely Missed Connection. They plan a hot date in the produce aisle.
***
So remember that picture I showed you of the corner where I was supposed to meet Curly? Well, instead of looking like this:
It looked more like this:
Apparently the San Gennaro Street Fair was happening on that particular corner. The air was thick with smoke from burning corn dogs and the sidewalk was crawling with cops and Italians. I shouldered my way through the crowd, scanning the masses for curly hair and a brown t-shirt bearing a single word.
As I made my way across the street, I looked up and saw a very large, middle-aged man smiling in my direction, a giant stuffed tiger partially blocking his brown shirt. He started toward me and my heart stopped. Suddenly, he shifted the tiger under his arm to reveal a wordless t-shirt. I let out my breath as he passed.
A few moments later, I decided to walk in the direction of Curly's work, thinking I might have a better chance of running into him outside the crowd. Suddenly, a very short, pudgy guy barreled past me in a way that said "I am extremely Type A and am also wearing a very nerdy backpack."
He was also wearing a brown t-shirt.
Furthermore, one look at his mop of poorly-coiffed brown hair and my heart sank. This was neither Hot Dude from Mercer Street nor was it Also Hot Dude from MySpace Music. This was Not At All Hot Dude Who is Running to Meet Me on the Corner of Mulberry and Spring Because He is One Minute Late While Also Wearing a Very Nerdy Backpack.
Oh my god.
I decided to take a deep breath and wait another minute. Maybe that wasn't him. Surely "brown shirt and curly hair" could describe at least three guys standing on this street corner. I waited another minute.
I finally decided to make my way across the street (and the literally ten zillion people) to the park, which was our official meeting place and Little Napolean is standing right there and he definitely has some sort of word on his brown shirt and oh my god, he's on his cell phone, he's probably calling me, RUN.
And so I ran.
It took me two full blocks to realize that I am actually the biggest jerk in the tri-state area. Did I seriously just stand someone up? Because he's punctual and is concerned about proper spinal alignment? Yes, I have a huge project sitting at home that's due tomorrow but people have feelings, dammit, and you march yourself right back there, missy.
So I went back.
And he was gone.
So I went to Whole Foods.
And I bought ice cream.
Which I am eating right now.
Out of the carton.
Good night.
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