It’s incredible how things happen. One day I’m conversing solely with Nabokov, the next I’m Penny Lane and backstage smoking a joint with Seu Jorge [this story is for another day]. Whether or not I choose to believe it, lately, things have been happening for a reason.
Some of you might have heard about my heart-stopping encounter in Montreal a few months ago. I met someone I was immediately smitten with and at the risk of sounding like a desperate WASP from the Bachelor; we had an ‘unmistakable connection’. Ick, I already regret typing that. Why was I so drawn to this person whose name I didn’t even know? Was it the mix of adrenaline and three too many gin and tonics? Was it working in my blood? Call it butterflies or ‘zsa-zsa-zsu’, regardless, I was hooked.
We danced, we kissed, we talked and we kissed some more. What’s strange is that our paths have crossed before. Mystery Man from New York, had gone to a few music festivals I had been to in the past. I wanted to know more. I mean, how many sexy, smart, traveled, electro-loving, music fest-going guys are there in the world? Okay, probably a lot. But, what are the chances of me meeting one on my much-needed escape from Ottawa?
If I were wearing x-ray goggles, I swear I could have seen the sparks flying off our bodies. Every tingle, touch was anticipation. The concert was drawing to an end and I figured we would continue our evening at an after-hours or whatnot. The venue began clearing out and in what has come to be one of the saddest events thus far; we lost each other in the crowd. Damn it.
I returned to reality, sore from dancing, but with stars still in my eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about this encounter I had. I mean, I’ve met interesting characters, that I truly was interested in before, but I usually choose to scoot off with my girlfriends, rather than exchange digits with them. Why was this guy setting up camp in my head? Around mid-terms too.. bastard.
I reassured all this doubt and regret with the notion that because our paths have crossed before, if it was ‘meant to be’, we would see each other again.
-two weeks later-
Eavesdropping in class: “Yeah, she totally found this creep on Craigslist’s”
My sister: “People post Missed Connections for people on campus!”
Saturday Night Live: “Pedophile’s Network; Missed Connections”
Me: “What the hell are Missed Connections!?”
One fateful morning: I was on my last lazy excuse why I shouldn’t get out of my nest of duvets and decided to check out Missed Connections. As I looked into Montreal’s network of missed connections, I turned bright red with embarrassment. Did I actually think there would be something on there, for me?
My heart stopped. There between a missed connection with a transexual and a ‘hot as fuck girl with tinkerbell tattoo’ was a posting for me.
It’s very, The Shop Around the Corner meets In Search of a Midnight Kiss. I can’t deny the serendipity of it all. It’s 21st Century romance, and I am into it.
This connection isn't missed and is still in motion today.
