Welcome, dear freshmen, to the return of Missed Connections! For those of you just joining us, we here at Vox (specifically, me) enjoy taking a few moments out of our day to acknowledge those whose romantic lives have taken a turn for the far, far less fortunate.
These are the denizens of the Missed Connections. The almost-flirtation that occurred at Safeway. The hidden admiration of your waiter’s ass. The borderline-stalkerish, yet borderline-endearing odes to that boy you spilled your drink on at Third’s.
…short answer, no.
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Vox’s Missed Connections: Chronicling America’s slide towards cultural armageddon since 1969.
I refuse to believe there are men who patronize Baked and Wired without glasses.
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It looks like the summer sun and some strenuous exercise at Georgetown’s own field house are causing students and residents to work up a healthy appetite for some long-shot lovin’. Except, apparently, for robots.
Athletic, intellectual, and above all, color-genic: what more could a guy write online to ask for?
“It appeared that our T-2000 pleasure-bots were assimilating well into fashionable human exercise clothing. However, several technology-reliant males appear to be onto us.”
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We’re back with this week’s edition of Georgetown Missed Connections, and unfortunately it looks like D.C.’s most desperate are still a little thin on the ground.
(As an aside, some of us were desperately looking for some Harry Potter-related connections, but were bitterly disappointed. Nevertheless, we soldier on…)
By “checking you”, I’m assuming you mean checking her out as opposed to, say, body checking?
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It’s getting to that chunk of July where not even the thought of some kinky FAA action is enough to lift my spirits.
Someone wants to play a game of pat down tonight. “Is that a concealed explosive in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
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Anyone remember that fire at Hook yesterday? It looks like there was more than one type of sizzle in the vicinity.
“One of Georgetown’s restaurants may be filled with the fires of tragedy and extensive property damage, but you’ve filled me with the fires…of passion.”
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Today, I introduce Vox’s readers to my latest postulate: the Facebook threshold. It’s a fairly simple concept, in theory – if by the end of a social encounter one hasn’t gathered enough personal information to find a given romantic target on Facebook, it’s probably not going anywhere.
It’s a theory that helps explain why we like Missed Connections so much: charming or creepy, Georgetown Missed Connections represent earnest (if often misguided attempts) to take a running, shouting leap over that threshold, Nattie in hand – and for that, we must salute their posters.
Because God forbid one might do something unclassy. Good thing we have Craigslist!
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On today’s edition of Georgetown Missed Connections, we bring you not one but two stories from everyone’s favorite trashy Georgetown club, Thirds. The fake IDs may be gone…but the class remains. Will this column be up to its usual standards, or just unfunny and half-assed? (It’s a trick question, of course – the answer is both.)
I appreciate this man’s attempt to literally interpret the phrase, “sweep him off his feet.”
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As per usual, we bring you a mix of the almost-endearing, borderline-creepy, and merely-pathetic for your amusement, mixed in with as many trite riffs as we can muster.
Based on that picture? Trying and failing oh so very hard.
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