Proof that missed connections are about more than love connections. These are for people that piss you off.
Living in New York City, you are pretty much guaranteed to have at least one crazy experience every time you leave your house. Chances are, that one crazy experience will be enough to send you into a rage spiral so intense your anus prolapses, and you have to move back to Ohio to have surgery on your stressed-out b-hole.
This city is filled with b-holes, but they are all so busy dealing with their own crap, you are lucky if you even register as a blip on their collective radars.
That is why missed connections for people that piss you off is such a great idea. Now New Yorkers can express their rage in a healthy way, by posting it to The Internet like normal people.
READ MORE: Three Reasons You Are Single and Drunk In New York
-At the gym parking lot today. You were the hot guy with the soul patch in the Kia Forte. You took my spot. I was waiting for that spot, and you just swooped in and took it. I wish you could have heard me honking at you. Our eyes connected but you just kept walking. If I had the chance to see you one more time, I would roll down my windows and call you a dick.
-We made small talk in the checkout line at Trader Joe’s. You said that you literally could not live without the salsa you were buying. I wish we could talk again. You used “literally” incorrectly. It really pissed me off. I wish you could literally not live without that salsa, because then I’d take it from you.
-Gramercy Park yesterday afternoon. You were wearing a scarf, a T-shirt, thick-rimmed glasses, and cowboy boots. I think that if we met I would find you insufferable.
-At a bar celebrating my friend’s birthday in midtown. You were wearing Google Glass. I tried to mouth, “You look like a moron.” Did you record that?
-You were sitting right next to me at an airplane terminal and we were both on our laptops. You were totally hogging the armrest. But when you moved your hand to cough, I took the armrest. You glanced at me angrily. This just happened. Now I can see you writing a post about me online. So I’m doing the same thing. You’re still writing. Me too. We can both see each other’s laptops as we write. I wish we could just talk in person so I could tell you not to be so passive-aggressive out loud.
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