In the fall of 1973 I was studying as a freshman at NYU, and after failing to make my initial train home to Maine, I was rushing through Grand Central on the evening before Thanksgiving 1973 when I spotted you, emerging from one of the railways, with a look of utter confusion on your face. You had the blondest hair I had ever seen, and a plaid dress. I had never seen a plaid dress before.
I was, in those days, terribly shy, and if I am honest with myself, I’ve never shook that stubborn sense of timidity or loneliness in crowds. To this day, trying to explain the uncharacteristic courageousness that seized me in that moment, and inspired me to walk up to you and say “are you lost?” is almost completely beyond me.
You were studying at Olberlin, and on your way to spend Thanksgiving with your aunt in Jersey City. After explaining to you where you could get a bus, I asked, in spite of knowing it would mean sacrificing my last chance to spend the holiday with my family (and likely infuriate my over-protective mother), if you wanted to get a drink and you said yes.
We walked out into a rainy Manhattan street and ducked into the first (cheap) bar we saw, where I ordered us two bottles of beer. Now in my 50’s, when with any luck a man might finally begin to acquire that elusive thing called wisdom, I know that there is nothing more exciting yet rare in life than making a true connection with someone. I have always been too sentimental for my own good, but in all honesty, I have never felt more at ease with anyone than I did laughing and talking to you that dimly lit midtown bar.
When I confessed that I purposefully missed my train to keep talking to you, you smiled slyly and said “well I guess it’s only fair that I miss my bus.” With no money for a cab, we walked to my Lower East Side dorm room, which was deserted aside from my German classmate Franklin, who kindly gave us a half-finished bottle of red wine.
We made love that night, and in the morning coached one another through shaky phone calls to our angry relatives back home. With the November cold turning the night’s rain into a dreary wintery mix, we stayed in bed all day, sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes, discussing politics and philosophy. You told me you had never felt “so New York before.”
That evening, you took a bus to Jersey City. A few weeks later I received a letter from California. You sent no return address, and I never saw you again.
I have been married twice since then - once divorced, and once widowed. I have had a successful career as an English professor, and am a proud father. My life has known its share of triumphs and heartaches, of love and loss. Against my better judgement, I haven’t forgotten that day - and, at least once a year, while mowing the lawn, or reading a newspaper, the details come back to me.
Perhaps, if life’s strange circumstances can permit it, we can have a second drink."
— missed connections, NYC (via chewingdirt)
— Vincent Freeman, Gattaca (via stannisbaratheon)
my mom has been a cop for over 20 years and she is the one who constantly warns me about police aggression and young male cops and told me that if you’re ever alone on a rural road and a cop throws their lights on to put on your four ways and drive to the next gas station before stopping because so many cops are scum and it’s not worth the chance of getting hurt. the fact that SHE feels the need to tell me this shit scares me to death
This is from an Australian condom ad that was banned and it’s kind of great.
it’s been 1 year since the most influential event of all time
Amy said she trusted me, that I would know the right thing to say on her behalf…
the fear of tampons that exists in teenage boys is literally one of the funniest things ive ever seen they act like its a nuclear missile like calm down bro its just a compressed cotton ball i swear to god if u ever want a teenage boy to leave u alone just pull out a tampon and throw it in his direction and he will run as far away as possible its hilarious
christmas is so much worse as you get older it’s like “what do you want this year?” “a sense of purpose”
"a career" "financial security" "a sex life" "tuition for grad school" "alcohol" "a nap" "socks would be nice"
In the fall of 1973 I was studying as a freshman at NYU, and after failing to make my initial train home to Maine, I was rushing through Grand...”
- “They say every atom in our bodies was once a part of a star. Maybe I’m not leaving, maybe I’m going home.”— Vincent Freeman, Gattaca (via ...
my mom has been a cop for over 20 years and she is the one who constantly warns me about police aggression and young male cops and...
i think my love and appreciation for my coworkers is reaching a certain level of weirdness
they’re perfect and make me so happy