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Years ago, I was a fairly regular reader of The Village Voice. Whenever I was home for the summer from college, going through my first few years employed, I would eagerly pick up my new copy every Wednesday. One of the spots that I would read word for word were the back page "quickie" ads.

Intermixed with all the scientific research, "Are you a chronic masturbator? Make $1500 while assisting important research..." and barely disguised escort services were these little quick hits... feelers, if you will. Stuff like, "D train, Monday morning, you with blonde hair, me in denim jacket, we locked eyes, smiled, and then looked away. Let's talk."

I was always fasicinated with these ads. I suppose a part of me wondered if my anonymous self could make such an impact on a passing stranger. I would read them and often get hopeful that I would see someone trying to find me. "You were cute, blue eyes buried in The Voice, hair brown and curly. I was dangling my shoe, trying to get your attention. Please call, I need to know your name."

But then I realized, despite my young lust-addled brain working against me, that the chances of finding someone through such a medium had to be next to impossible. I mean, to place a gamble on that person actually being a reader of The Village Voice, and moreso they would read it that VERY week, and even moreso read that specific page. The odds against it must be astronomical!

Yet, wandering the web in a nice 2-minute blast of procrastination and mindlessness, I find such a forum once again here, on Craigslist.com. There are the same ads we used to see in the Voice... and yet, also stranger anonymous postings. Venting about exes, wishful thinking, acklowledgement of birthdays and anniversaries.

And once again, I found myself scanning the postings for hints of myself. Is it my inflamed ego? My hopeless romantic? Or perhaps just natural curiousity.

If I were truly OCD, I would read it every day, checking to see if there was a chance that I inspired some stranger on the city streets to reach out for me. But, really... what are the odds of that.

Comments

( 19 comments — Leave a comment )
(Deleted comment)
boymeat
Apr. 26th, 2006 08:49 pm (UTC)
Yeah. I was sad to pick up an issue a few years ago and find it missing. But... a back page of advertising is worth a good amount of money. I understand the decision, despite me missing my old page.
(Deleted comment)
luna_littleone
Apr. 26th, 2006 08:52 pm (UTC)
Well you have always said that you do not go after people.
They come to you.

It might seem egotistical to some but I must confess...it's a very true statement.
emeraldliz
Apr. 26th, 2006 08:52 pm (UTC)
It's your ego.

And OCD doesn't mean you obsess/compulse EVERYTHING :)
rogueboi
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:00 pm (UTC)
Missed Connection
Did you see me at LLC? You were the troublemaker with curly hair sporting a "Schadenfreude" black baseball cap, I was the respiratorily-challenged dork cub coughing in the hall outside workshop sessions one and two. We locked eyes... grabbed lunch together... where have you been since then? I need your mischevious energy in my life again. If you read this, leave me your name and number at mailbox #6969

*poke poke*

;)
boymeat
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:02 pm (UTC)
Re: Missed Connection
Dear gawd I love you.

Let's try to catch up tomorrow night... let's make a commitment to call each other.
rogueboi
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:23 pm (UTC)
Re: Missed Connection
I'm sorry, I can't call you unless I see it posted on "Rants and Raves..."

Actually, tomorrow night is out for me, but this weekend might be good. Want to try and schedule a dorkfest?
lisavnyc
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:16 pm (UTC)
I used to fixate on those ads, too. Some kind of morbid fascination with the thought that one's true soulmate might have been passed by in an all too brief exchange.

And then I discovered poly! :)
beowabbit
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:23 pm (UTC)
What we need is little low-power low-range radio transmitters we can leave in our pockets that transmit a little business card. It could be just enough of a low-resolution photo to pick out the right person (because there could be a dozen of them on the train car with you), a URL, and an email address (or phone number, but I'm guessing the Luddites wouldn’t go for this anyway).

Oh, and of course there would have to be a bunch of boolean flags you could set to indicate whether you’d be up for sneaking into the nearest public restroom for a quickie, and whether I have to be a seven-foot-tall female bodybuilder for you to be interested in that or not. But that could be a later refinement.
faeflitt
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:46 pm (UTC)
You disabled Anonymous Posting....
To the sweet, intelligent boy with the curly brown hair and the bright infectious grin: There is something you should know. I had always been terrified of canes, so had my Boyfriend. We decided to take your seminar at Final Fantasm pretty much on the basis that Lolita recommended it, and you looked so cute in her previous class all wrapped in bright blue vet wrap.... We were immediately fascinated to learn that there could be light and sensual aspects to canes as well as the blistering bleeding thwacks that are usually associated with these toys. We soaked up as much information as we possibly could. We wandered into the dealers’ room immediately after class and purchased our first cane with shy excitement. That was the start to a wonderful journey that lead us to a variety of canes, sensations, and situations. This memory flashed back at me with a warm glow the other morning as I bent over to pick up the two halves of a Beautiful Oak cane that had been gifted to us by one of the local vendors to see exactly what it would take to break it. (Quite a bit!) It is amazing and just a little frightening to have gone from abject fear of canes to being some of the local experts in just under a year.

I was hoping to run into you at Frolicon this year and thank you in person for giving us the gift of knowledge that you did…. We were not able to attend as scheduling dictated that to be the best weekend to run to Vegas and Elope…. Anyway, My Husband and I thank you.

You are a teacher, a leader, a thinker, and a very open and giving wonderful human. You will probably never know all the good deeds you have done or the secret thoughts of you that seed smiles on strangers faces.
boymeat
Apr. 27th, 2006 02:56 am (UTC)
Re: You disabled Anonymous Posting....
Wow... thank you very much for such an amazing compliment. I am at once blushing and filled with pride. I'm sorry our paths didn't cross once again, but congrats on your wedding!

I see you are a local to our dear Prince Julian. Do give her a pinch for me.
faeflitt
Apr. 27th, 2006 04:06 pm (UTC)
Re: You disabled Anonymous Posting....
Yep, she is a sometimes boyfriend and play partner of mine! Anywhere in particular you would like me to pinch her for you? ;)

BTW, I don't know if you keep up on her journal, but you might be interested to know that she won the New Mexico Ms. Gay pride title last weekend. (They modified the floor length ballgown requirement just so her fagginess could compete as a female who represents as male but is still technically a "dyke".)

I am sure our paths will cross again sometime... I look forward to it!
lolitasir
Apr. 26th, 2006 09:46 pm (UTC)
Oy! Not only did I used to always read those but I even placed one of those ads. No response.

But I got some great responses from personal ads in the Voice. Long time ago.
brehen
Apr. 27th, 2006 01:10 am (UTC)
So...you *like* stalkers....*

Woo-knew?
boymeat
Apr. 27th, 2006 02:57 am (UTC)
You knew.
feyrieprincess
Apr. 27th, 2006 03:45 pm (UTC)
This is reassuring.
katestine
Apr. 27th, 2006 02:28 am (UTC)
I once found someone bc of Craig's List missed connections, so it's not impossible.
feyrieprincess
Apr. 27th, 2006 03:43 pm (UTC)
You left a pretty big impression on me in an airport...
You: Black leather jacket, (long at the time) curly hair, boots, jeans, pack of Marlboro Reds and a smile I will never forget.

Me: Nervous little girl in unattractive school orchestra uniform, brown courderoy overshirt, and black shoes with toes showing that froze my feet on the plane one the way to Europe.

You: Bought me a Dasani and a Knish (which I'd never heard of and was the first thing a boy ever bought me), and gave me your copy of the Story of O.

Me: Trembling, scared as hell, excited to see you and absolutely fascinated for the rest of my life.
( 19 comments — Leave a comment )