This week [ed. note: more like six weeks ago] on Missed Connections, a number of men posting for women proved that they’re still using the same baiting techniques as they did when they were eight, and punching a girl was the sexually-frustrated compromise between shoving her face in the sandbox and touching her tiddlywinks: by straight up insulting them.
It Probably Isn’t Flattering… – m4w – 23 (Massachusetts)
That’s how you’re beginning this posting? Really? Self-awareness and acknowledgment of things like your emotions=sexy. Acknowledgment of impending douchebaggery=I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just stop right there.
but I’m feeling particularly miserable and somewhat less than sober, so I thought that I’d think of you.
“Hey, I was just contemplating how I’m a sopping mess of self-loathing and gin, and you came to mind. You always do when I need to think about anything besides popping a whole bottle of Oxy and drinking corrosive acid. Call me.”
You: Laugh like Woody the Woodpecker, Auburn hair, Gray Georgetown sweatshirt, blue jeans. Short, white girl with sterotypical white girl voice, but also one of the coolest human beings on the planet. Probably cooler than Fonzi.
No. I refuse to believe you could be even more insulting, while still convinced that you’re being cute. A laugh “like Woody the Woodpecker”? Do you know how often that laugh is used to qualify dispensable nuisances? And what the fuck is a “sterotypical white girl voice”? Fran Drescher from The Nanny? Another white woman whose voice is just as annoying as Woody’s? Thank Jesus you make sure to let her know that, despite the fact that she’s just like every other white girl/cartoon woodpecker hybrid, she’s really cool–maybe even cooler than another fictional character no one has cared about for years.
Me: Quiet, attempting to appear sullen and cool type. White, collared shirt, blue jeans, black boots. Okay (I think) looking black nerd.
Anything short of “Nobel Peace Prize winner, astronaut, and five-time Olympic champion” in your self-description isn’t enough to justify what came before it. Sorry.
I can’t quite think of the exact context in which we met, meaning the reason why we were there. It had something to do with future planning, establishing routes out toward our goals. We were all at a big conference table. You were in a seat, furthest away from the door, with a group of girls. I was closest to the door, caming in late, and I said that I had an interest in the medical field, as well as an interest in creative writing. You approached me afterward and asked if I was someone else. I can’t remember who you thought I was. Later on, we hung out. Because this is anonymous and only because it’s anonymous, I’ll say it. I swear, I have not had such a connection with another human being.
If the part about posting this MC that makes you the most anxious is that you “have not had such a connection with another human being,” then you seriously need to rework your perception of what women find attractive (and probably your own trust issues). No one’s going after an emotionally-stunted man who feels free telling the whole Internet that you sound like you’re constantly popping bubble wrap in your sinuses, but gets nervous about saying he likes you. No, I mean, he like-likes you.
The poster of the next MC took the opposite approach, which was that he was entirely cognizant of how he might offend the postee, and overcompensated:
Real World Ryan’s Long Lost Sister – m4w (Please don’t kill me for saying that)
Hi I mean absolutely nothing bad by that. I mean, why would I be posting here if I meant it was bad 🙂
Yeah, you’d think that would stop someone from posting shitty things about someone they’re interested in, right? (See: above.) But if there was any chance that this woman might “kill you for saying that,” then why wouldn’t you just change the fucking title? “Beautiful Woman Who Looks Nothing Like the Female Version of a Reality T.V. Star,” for example.
OK so actually we both resemble poor Ryan. If you keep reading this post, you may end up wearing a look on your face something like our hairdressing friend’s exasperated disbelief, and perhaps an angry scowl too. Hate mail very welcome, and I apologize in advance.
Her panties are probably melting off at this point.
I like trees and sitting in them, and doing other things with them too, and flowers and forests and hiking and things. I also like organic foods and bagels. And ‘root s. But I’m not very good at it, I’m actually really self-conscious about that. I suck at talking to people and take a while to open up. A while that I was not around for. I like hugs. Way too much, apparently. You must have somehow recognized my mortal weakness and launched a pre-emptive sneak-attack. Well, you won, and struck a crippling blow, shattering the foe behind the iron curtain. I counter-attacked in kindness though, on account of my sometimes-present ninja-skill reflexes.
Oh God, where to begin…okay, the first sentence: Are you suggesting that you partake in sexual activities with trees, or were you just referring to your hobby as a lumberjack by saying you do “other things with them too”? What does “‘root s” mean? How were you not around for the “while” that it takes you to open up to people? Why did you make an Iron Curtain reference? Was this just a coherent paragraph that you typed up, put in a blender, and glued back together while hoping for the best?
You? Well, I’ll try not to embarass you with flattery here, but you do have neat handwriting. And hands – very nimble. You actually just seemed really neat in general. They say cleanliness is close to Godliness. IDK but it’s good hygiene and stuff. Or at least keeps you from smelling. But then they also say a clean desk is a sign of a dirty mind. I don’t take too much stock in either honestly.
The chastity belt she wears under her panties is probably melting off at this point.
The last I saw you see me see you was like a Ray o’ sun to 800 film that had accidentally been through the X-ray machine at the airport – it was already overexposed. All the pics from the last roll came out completely blue. Wierd!
Speaking of which I had to replace my lenses and the case, never did end up finding them. Too much snow on the ground. REALLY SORRY THEY WERE NOT CHEAP I HAD TO ASK. I should probably have some simpler ones on hand just in case, like the black-rimmed kind.
…Special K is a helluva drug, isn’t it, kids?
Anyways, I hope I haven’t embarassed you or anything, but hey, if anyone makes fun of you for this, you know they’ve been reading CL missed connections! Way worse. And if you’re reading CL missed connections, I posted this to CL missed connections. WAY WORSE.
1. Fuck off. 2. Fuck off.
Hate mail link provided above (and I’m serious about that, trying to be at least a bit realistic here).
Live long and prosper,
A zoological oddity
I do appreciate the fact that he included a picture of this girl’s reality star likeness, since those of us who stopped watching MTV once it stopped being music television (see: roughly ten years ago) have no clue who this guy is. However, signing this post as a “zoological oddity” is not doing you any favors, nor is quoting Star Trek, nor is reiterating the notion that this girl can only hate you for anything you’ve said so far. It wasn’t nearly as offensive as the last post, and parts of it were even cute, references to Communist Russia notwithstanding.
The next post is a man addressing all sorts of vaguely identified women:
Attention Sassy Young Women Of Boston – m4w (Downtown)
Date: 2012-03-23, 7:49PM EDT
Sincerely Boston Bike Messenger
PS I cant believe i wrote that
This one, at first glance, does not really seem offensive. It’s kinda funny, actually. I imagine a lanky bike messenger, with gauged earlobes and a Chrome bag and a hat with racing stripes, running into parked cars as he stares at all the women who have decided to break out their short-shorts in worship of the sun god Ra.
But why are women who, presumably, aren’t wearing “enough” clothing, called “sassy”? Why is it their fault you can’t keep your eyes on the fucking road? Maybe you should learn how to control your erection, and you wouldn’t have such an issue keeping it from peeping through the hole in the crotch of your tight jeans that you got from biking too much while wearing tight jeans. I’m not going to say that this is like blaming the victim–because the victim in this case is clearly your blue balls–but it’s this line of thinking that places the responsibility of controlling sexual desires entirely on women.
The only redeeming part of this post is the last line, which would make one think that he had written this in a spontaneous act of drunken “hilariousness.” But check the time–not even 8 p.m. This bike messenger either just makes potentially regrettable decisions, or gets drunk and makes potentially regrettable decisions. But, admittedly, the fact that he wrote something so benign and then followed it up with, “I cant believe I wrote that,” as if he had described these women as having a Woody Woodpecker laugh (seriously!), does adds to the comedic effect.
But not everyone was a dick on MC this week. I’ll leave you on this, one of the cutest and strangest MCs in days:
Liberty Tax Girl – m4w – 34 (south shore)
I usually see you waving outside on my way home from work in Weymouth Landing. The few times I’ve waved to you I see the smile on your face and hopefully made your day. Haven’t seen you out there lately. Just wondering if you are out there.
Aww…probably not. But it’s refreshing to know that connections can be made even while doing the most obscure and shittiest of jobs.