Your fellow partygoers have submitted their missed connections. So have people who weren’t in attendance. We invite you email us for their contact information. And if you’re short on date ideas, we encourage you to return to the scene of the crime this Sunday, December 16, from 5 to 8 PM, for the closing reception of Anna K. Miller’s show. Instagram, please, so we can publish an update.
You said: “No Marxism in the bathroom.” I begged to differ.
No Glove, No Love
We danced to Justin Timberlake together. You have lots of friends. By the time I missed my first cue you were already talking, dancing with another guy. I’m a pro at this. Blinders on. It’s about the music.
Two hours later unlocking my bike. I dropped a glove inside. Secretly glad.
You: “What are you doing later?”
Me: “Nothing really.”
You: “I’m probably going home.”
Stupid. That’s not the response. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt like such a fool.
At least I found my glove.
The girl with a pink streak in your long dark hair, probably wearing a leather jacket—I wasn’t actually at the party, but I felt your “wishing you were here” vibes. Call me next time. Don’t be afraid. I’m waiting.