Musical Missed Connections
NOTE FROM THE MISSED CONNECTIONS CHIEF BOTTLE FINDER:
Isn’t it interesting how storms and crazy weather can force individuals to interact and look at one another in a way they might not have otherwise? Had the rain not come and the tree not fallen, do you think these two would have even noticed each other as they scurried down the street after the workday?
A Girl Among Fallen Branches
Missed Connections in Brooklyn
I’ve been telling my coworkers about being in the eye of the storm yesterday: I had just emerged from the Grand Army Plaza station, thinking absentmindedly that it was already starting to get dark earlier in the evening. Then I realized it was too soon for that, that it wasn’t dark-dark, it was Bad Dark. Then the rain started. Everyone was running, as unprepared as I was. Why didn’t the forecast even mention a chance of rain? How does a tornado just sneak up on us?
You were running, too. Under dressed. No raincoat, no umbrella, just an unbuttoned cardigan flapping behind you like a cape as you scurried. I was impressed at how fast you were running in heels until you stumbled on an uneven bit of pavement. If I knew you we could have laughed at the situation. You were a few steps ahead of me. Then the big tree fell. Neither of us were in danger, but you were closer. The sidewalk buckled just like it had in front of my house in San Francisco during the ’89 earthquake.
You stopped, turned, and looked around for anyone. Your face said, “This is CRAZY, right?” I was so stunned by your eyes that I could only muster a vague hand gesture. I didn’t even ask if you were all right. I’m sorry.
