“L” is for Love
I saw you at the “L” stop, listening to Blondie’s “One Way or Another” on your iPod, bopping your head and lip-syncing along. You were wearing a black and white uniform with a steaming coffee mug stitched on the pocket. Bottle shaped glasses emblazoned your liquid brown eyes.
Perhaps you noticed me? I was sporting a tee-shirt with a before and after picture of a geek using a calculator then upgrading to an iPad. I was pacing the platform in front of you, hoping to catch your attention. You looked right at me, but only briefly.
I wanted to say “Hello,” ask if you had plans. But surely a beautiful girl like you wouldn’t stay home on a Friday night. I imagine you were going out to a club later. Unfortunately, other than cooking some Spaghetti-O’s and watching YouTube videos I had nothing else going on.
Maybe you’d like to hang out some time. If you would, please reply to this ad.
I saw you at Home Brew Café working behind the counter. I asked about the specialty espressos. You suggested the Brazilian. Wow! Was that a hint of berry, or vanilla I tasted? Whatever it was, it left a tingle on my palate.
You laughed at my shirt: a before and after picture of a geek using a calculator then upgrading to an iPad. I find sarcasm flies over most people’s heads. That’s how I knew you were special — you appreciate intellectual humor. I tried to talk to you, but you were taking the next customer’s order. I understand. You were busy.
If you’d like to grab a cup of coffee sometime, please reply to this ad.
I saw you walking your dog in the park near Home Brew Café on Thursday, listening to, I think, Blondie’s “One Way or Another” on your iPod. I asked you if I could pet him. To my embarrassment you said he was a her, but allowed me the courtesy anyway. Your dog was not so forthcoming. She barked and tried to nip me. You excused her actions, saying she didn’t take kindly to strangers. Though minutes later a couple came along and she licked their hands.
Perhaps we could take her to the park and play Frisbee. I’ll bring along a doggie treat. By the way, what’s her name? She may feel less reluctant if I address her properly. I’m certain once she gets to know me we’ll be good friends. I could say the same for you.
So what do you say about next Thursday? You have Thursdays off, right? Come on and throw this old dog a bone and please reply to this ad.
What Light Yonder?
I saw your performance of Romeo and Juliet last night. I overheard you telling a customer at Home Brew about it and purchased a ticket online. I think this could be your breakthrough performance. When you committed suicide at the end of Act Three I found myself shouting, “No, don’t do it!” I don’t know if you heard me.
I’m currently writing a screenplay. You could play the lead love interest. It’s about a boy who falls for a girl he sees on the “L” but she doesn’t know it. He places a missed connection ad on Craigslist hoping she’ll read it. She replies to the ad and…well, I don’t want to ruin it by telling you everything. But it has a happy ending.
If you’re interested in exchanging Shakespearean dialogue, please reply to this ad.
I saw you through your bedroom window. I know what it looked like: me up in that tree watching you get dressed through a pair of binoculars. But it was all happenstance. I swear I’m not a pervert.
I saw a beautiful cardinal land on your sill. I climbed the tree to get a better view of its vibrant red plumage. After you screamed and your neighbor came running out of the apartment building I got scared. I nearly broke my ankle from the fall. That sonofabitch chased me for five blocks and ripped my favorite tee-shirt. You know — the one with a before and after picture of a geek using a calculator then upgrading to an iPad. I had to visit a doctor the next morning. But don’t worry. I’m not going to sue. That is if you don’t press charges.
Why don’t you reply this ad and we can talk this out over at your place over dinner? Let’s say seven o’clock tonight. I’m sure we can come to an understanding.
I see that you filed a restraining order after I stood outside Home Brew and played Blondie’s “One Way or Another” on my boombox, for which you had me arrested. And now I’m not allowed to have contact or get within a hundred yards of you. There must be some miscommunication.
Please reply to this ad. It would make me very happy to hear from you. I’ll be eagerly awaiting your response.