Someone is searching for a dark-haired man or woman who was at the Greenpoint Ave G train station yesterday afternoon (4/25).
Saw you across G Train Platform
Saw you across the G train platform on Greenpoint avenue stop on Wed, April 25th around 2:30. Me dark hair, grayish beard, you dark hair, beautiful.
We smiled said hello, waved and I had to run. Thought of coming back around on the side but was already running late.
Really wanted to talk to you, write me back here?
We stumbled upon this beautifully written Craigslist missed connection and felt compelled to share it with our readers in hopes of tracking down the woman in question. In summary: a gentleman was in town from Seattle, met a well-read, NYC Marathon-loving dame at Egg (109 N 3rd St), and they shared a moment over the New York Times. If you are the Williamsburg woman this cunning linguist is looking for, please let us know; we’re dying to hear how this story ends. And for godsakes, go chase this fellow down in Seattle. All the good ones in New York are taken.
Below, the full text of the post:
Conversation about the NYC Marathon at Egg on Monday, redux – m4w (Egg – Williamsburg)
If this was a fool’s errand before (and it was), it definitely enters uncharted realms of hopelessness now. But I feel compelled to try one last time all the same…
It was Monday morning, 11/6, around 10:00am or so when I walked into Egg in Williamsburg, and you were there alone by the door reading the Marathon section of the NY Times. I asked you where you’d found it, and you replied by telling me it was already there and giving it to me in one fell swoop. That was the first indication, however small, of your exceptionally kind and generous nature. It was then swiftly revealed in greater fullness in the course of our ensuing conversation by the manner in which you spoke, and the things that you said. Simple, common phrases like, “Enjoy your breakfast,” and, “Take care. It was nice meeting you,” assumed new layers of meaning and sincerity when you uttered them. You mentioned watching the marathon in Greenpoint and being incredibly moved by it, which further speaks to your generosity of spirit, too. Seldom, if ever, have I encountered someone whose graciousness is so unmistakable and pure.
I live in Seattle, and was only in New York to run the race. You, or anyone you know (who knows it is you of whom I speak), is unlikely to ever see this, and we’re unlikely to ever speak or see each other again. But I prefer to cling to the possibility of a different narrative unfolding, however remote and improbable. And stranger things happen via the Internet all the time. Is it really so absurd to hope for a little longer, at least, to be added to those wondrous annals of fortuitous occurrences?
“Online dating can work,” insists Kelly Brixi, heroine of Kim Masson’s debut novel, Craig’s List Chronicles: byte-size tales. “I know a girl who met her husband that way. When they got married, they gave out little chocolate computers as gifts.” The year is 2000, and Kelly is heading off to a blind date at the Met. She runs through the safety precautions with her best friend and hopes for the best, at least when it comes to looks, because she’s never seen her date before.
“Back then, Craigslist did not have pictures,” explains Masson (because I was born in the late ’80s and have no memory of those times), “blind dates were true blind dates.”
We’re sitting outside at Baoburg, where a few diners are bent determinedly over their phones, and I turn my microphone app on, slide it across the table, and begin asking Masson the hard questions about writing your first novel, indie publishing, and meeting the love of your life online. Continue reading →