14 - Craigslist missed connection
Too Late? m4w 23 (middle east downstairs)
http://boston.craigslist.org/gbs/mis/1674236923.html
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Too Late? - m4w - 23 (middle east downstairs)
Date: 2010-04-03, 12:10AM EDT
So I don't know if you remember me...
You were standing in front of me in line at the Deerhoof concert at the Middle East on September 14th.
The first thing I saw were your suede boots – a little worse for the wear.
And then I looked up.
You had on a yellow dress which ended just above your knees and a necklace with big green stones on it.
Everything you wore shimmered....
but not as much as you....
I kept looking over at you during the show and I was going to go ask you your name but you were dancing so intently that I didn't want to, you know, disrupt your reverie.
You left before the encore, before I could find you.
But I ran into you again after the show at Wendy's: you were eating with a few friends and you were dipping your burger in sweet and sour sauce.
You gave me this glance out of the corner of your eye like you recognized me.
And I was going to come talk to you because I really like to do that with my burger too, and I came up with a really witty comment about sweet and sour sauce – really it was pretty good.
But I didn't for some reason and instead left with my chili and got on the bus home where I couldn't stop thinking about you and decided I was gonna put one of these up first thing in the morning on September 15th.
I certainly couldn't do it that night. That would be weird, right?
So I told myself I would wake up early and post one of these – not too early though. But then I stayed up too late thinking about what I was going to write and in turn overslept and when I woke up and tried to write this, it didn't feel right. So I decided to wait another day, but then it felt like the moment had passed, and I said, fuck it, it's too late, and I thought I'd stop thinking about you. But then I didn't stop thinking about you, but I didn't want to be that pathetic guy posting on craigslist missed connections four days after the fact. And I hope this doesn't come off as creepy, but these feelings haven't stopped and seriously everytime I see a diminutive blonde walk by, I have to check twice and make sure it's not you and now it's been so long I'm not even sure I would recognize your face if I saw you again.
Maybe I should have spoken up on September 14th.
Maybe I will now:
Hey.
My name's Jeff.
Deerhoof was really good live.
That's my favorite way of getting in my daily recommended value of high-fructose corn syrup too.
I think you're cute.
Is it too late?
You were standing in front of me in line at the Deerhoof concert at the Middle East on September 14th.
The first thing I saw were your suede boots – a little worse for the wear.
And then I looked up.
You had on a yellow dress which ended just above your knees and a necklace with big green stones on it.
Everything you wore shimmered....
but not as much as you....
I kept looking over at you during the show and I was going to go ask you your name but you were dancing so intently that I didn't want to, you know, disrupt your reverie.
You left before the encore, before I could find you.
But I ran into you again after the show at Wendy's: you were eating with a few friends and you were dipping your burger in sweet and sour sauce.
You gave me this glance out of the corner of your eye like you recognized me.
And I was going to come talk to you because I really like to do that with my burger too, and I came up with a really witty comment about sweet and sour sauce – really it was pretty good.
But I didn't for some reason and instead left with my chili and got on the bus home where I couldn't stop thinking about you and decided I was gonna put one of these up first thing in the morning on September 15th.
I certainly couldn't do it that night. That would be weird, right?
So I told myself I would wake up early and post one of these – not too early though. But then I stayed up too late thinking about what I was going to write and in turn overslept and when I woke up and tried to write this, it didn't feel right. So I decided to wait another day, but then it felt like the moment had passed, and I said, fuck it, it's too late, and I thought I'd stop thinking about you. But then I didn't stop thinking about you, but I didn't want to be that pathetic guy posting on craigslist missed connections four days after the fact. And I hope this doesn't come off as creepy, but these feelings haven't stopped and seriously everytime I see a diminutive blonde walk by, I have to check twice and make sure it's not you and now it's been so long I'm not even sure I would recognize your face if I saw you again.
Maybe I should have spoken up on September 14th.
Maybe I will now:
Hey.
My name's Jeff.
Deerhoof was really good live.
That's my favorite way of getting in my daily recommended value of high-fructose corn syrup too.
I think you're cute.
Is it too late?
- Location: middle east downstairs
- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
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p.s. The answer to all of your questions is "yes", kid.
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This certainly wasn't what I had in mind for "September 14th"
Here's the first line of what I would have written had I rolled differently:
When I came back the earth was still on fire
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Also a revised reposting of a non-poem on a similar topic:
The 'T' Word
There was only one word on everyone’s mind. But we weren’t terrified, not really. It was more anticipation than anything else - an emotionless anticipation. Nobody shook in fear, even as the whole world rumbled.
Joe and I were smoking outside the coffee shop when it happened, when...BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRANNNG BBBBBBBRRRRR... The earth shook. Our ear drums shook. We didn't shake.
A few customers emerged, attracted by the unexplained vibrations, but I saw no dread in any of their eyes; they wanted to see it - something - happen. Joe and I? We kept sitting, letting the cigarettes in our mouths dangle and burn.
And then suddenly, the source of the noise revealed itself: a low-flying military jet, almost alien, emerged from behind the Hancock Building. It sailed across the pale sun and away from us as the rumbling subsided. There was no movement, no noise.
And then suddenly, the spectators returned to their laptops and lattes. Joe and I remembered our cigarettes and I noticed that mine had extinguished at the filter. I stomped on it as Joe pulled some smoke into his lungs and exhaling, turned to me. His voice was fragile: “There was only one word on everyone’s mind.”
1 comment:
But she was eating Wendy's. I think Wendy's was the real missed connection here.
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