Taking It to the Next Level

Nice.

Casio, I Love You

My newly-made friend and I boarded the train, her wearing a new, free orange coat, and me toting my free Casio SK-1.

"Can you play that?" you said.

"Uh...yeah," I responded, taken aback.

"No, I mean right now."

"Well, there aren't any batteries."

"What size does it need?"

"Double A."

And with that, you produced a package of batteries from your capacious bookbag, a package of gargantuan proportions.*

We tried to make it work. But the wires were too corroded. Blast!

You'll be happy to know that I got it working, even without a soldering gun. (There was, however, jury-rigged stripping of wire with a kitchen shears.)

I heard you gave my friend the rose. That was sweet. Thanks for the story.

Update: I posted this this afternoon, and after a couple hours, got one response:

Hi, how are you doing, this is an amazing story,

Cute.

I particularly like the irrationally-capitalized "Cute."

*okay, there were 36. Still, it looked like a lot.

Because we (obviously) need ANOTHER internet addiction...

Through a tip from a friend I met on another addictive internet site, I give you this:

ny.subwaycrush.com

Not as time-sucking as the regular Craigslist MC's, but still good to know it exists.

don't say "tight"

So last night on the train, this dude complimented my tights (which were, in fact, pretty dope) and we got to talking drunkenly. He was adorable and had good shoes and glasses, and I don't know why I didn't at least fling my card at him as I left the train. I'm going to blame the sangria/no dinner combo. So of course I posted an MC upon arriving home:

you complimented my tights and said you were a drunken fool. i humored you because i thought you had good shoes (and cute glasses). i exited at graham. you kissed my hand before i left. you live at dekalb (in the heart of bushwick, apparently, where there are only baby jesus bodegas). if you read this, let's make out.

I thought to myself "maybe this time, I'll be lucky...maybe this time he'll reeeeeaaaaad (my missed connection that I posted)." So when I got to work this morning, I checked my super-secret pseudonym account and lo and behold, a message awaited me. However, due to the ridiculously strict internet policies of my current position, I can see iGoogle, and I can see the addresses and subject headings of my emails but I can't ACTUALLY SEE THE EMAILS THEMSELVES. I called Alex and considered asking her to check my account and read me the email in the hopes that my subway Romeo had seen my missive and responded in the affirmative. But then I thought: okay. There are two possibilities here, and these are the only two:
1. It's him.
2. It's a picture of a penis.
Because really, who responds to a post THAT specific at 4 in the morning if it's not for them? Only someone trollin' for the bootaaaayyy.

So when I met my iPhone-toting friend later in the evening, I checked it out.

Not one.
Not two.
But THREE PEEN PICS. THREE. In one of which, the dude appears to be talking on the phone (you can see its cord [yes I said "cord"] in the background). They're SO BIZARRE. It had to happen sometime, right?

unmissed connection

you asked me whether the trains leave regularly all night long, which i then explained to you, but then you went on to say that you were going home from work (an activity i assume you do fairly often), so when you asked for my number, i wasn't that surprised. you work in advertising...let's hope you're not a douche.