Missed Connections Fiction
A quarter of the shit on there has to be fake already. It'll be the new/hip medium. No really, I'm tellin' you.
Here it is:
You wore a long pink coat and a yellow, flowery cap. - 24
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Reply to: anon-49949388@craigslist.org
Date: 2004-11-23, 3:18AM CST
You are a girl. You got on the blue line at Division and exited on California. I was wearing sunglasses (kind of stupid at night I know, but I was outside all day and hate to squint), a red hooded sweatshirt and my hair was brown. You were with a man that wore a brown leather jacket and grey slacks who kicked my brown messenger's bag, that I had set on the floor, into my feet as he walked by my seat. He stood by the doors at the front of our car, smiled, whispered something into your ear and then spit towards me. The spittle didn't hit me, but landed too close. You smiled at me and, I think, mouthed, "Let's get together."
I bet that guy you were with is funny and nice once you get to know him. You both seemed to poke and tease like friends not lovers. You may not believe it, but I really don't hate him for spitting. I'm fairly sure he thinks I'm a dipshit, but he won't remember me. And you can just say we met at a bar and hit it off. Then he'll have to give me a chance. Just don't tell him about this little message. I know how important it is to girls that their male friends accept their suitors.
So anyway, yes, let's.
this is in or around Blue Line to O'Hare Monday Night
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
49949388
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