The American Caliban (substitute) wrote,
The American Caliban
substitute

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Comic Book Guy meets a girl

My Indian/Arabic Beauty - m4w - 28
Reply to: pers-160362531@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-05-13, 4:36AM PDT
Who are you? I ask myself. It was just another Friday; bunch of friends hanging out, hoping to meet that one person that will change their lives but knowing that most likely that would not happen. Because of this, expectations were low and passing time was the goal. The first 2 hours played out as expected: the conventional few drinks and common questions. How’s your week? Is your boss still a prick? What’s your plan for tomorrow?

I was about to call it a night, when I decided to get my last drink at the Shark’s Club. Then it happened. That moment that will cause me to stay up till 3 AM and write this letter.

As I waited to order my drink, I bumped into you at the bar. Even though shy by nature, I felt compelled to at least say one phrase to you. Maybe; hi, how are you? To be honest, I don’t remember what was said, but I knew we hit it off instantly as we began to talk about favorite alcoholic beverages. You, I presumed are a Coke and Vodka fan. You asked me to share a drink and I refused at first since I was the designated driver for the night. But your easy-going personality and mixed Indian and Arabic beauty gave me no choice but to relent. As we continued the generalities of an introduction, the connection became stronger. You know that feeling that this might be more than just coincident. Maybe this will go beyond the casual encounter.
I mentioned to you that my favorite concoction was a Jaegermeister and a Red Bull mix and you laughed. Some may take it as nothing more than impoliteness; however, I felt totally connected. It’s that feeling that you might have found that one person that will at least be worth a second or third date. I decided to introduce you to my buddy and he thought you were cool. Maybe too cool since you scared away the girl that he was hitting on. We began to talk and you mentioned that you like trance music and you were going to a place called Avalon in LA tomorrow. Where is Avalon I would normally ask? However, it turns out my buddy knows the place and had planned for us go there tomorrow. Ask I stared at you again, I kept on thinking about that magic word that people always use: connection. You made fun of me and I thought how cool. What girl makes fun of a guy at first sight and drags him out to the dance floor? Still half dazed and confused, we went to meet your friends on the dance floor. But as fate would have it, as we move through the crowded joint, we got separated.

Believe me when I tell you that I frantically searched every corner for you. Maybe it was only a few minutes; maybe more, however, it felt like an eternity trying to find you. During that time, part of me imagined that you too are also looking for me. But the pessimistic side said: bad omen. Here comes another Friday: one where frustration rules and hook-up with the wrong person is the norm. Eventually, I saw you again near the bar, talking to two other guys: one shaved and looking like he served our country well. My heart dropped: a precipitous fall from its once high. We eventually made eye contact but instead of coming back to me, as I would have wished, you continued to talk to the interloper. Believe me, when I say, my whole being just wanted to approach the player and kick his ass; however, some stupid moral constraint prevented me from doing the instinctive.

Here I stand, in a state of denial; unable to cope with the loss of the Indian/Arabic beauty that haunts my sleep; angry at her for not reciprocating my desire for her and worst failing to get her number. It’s now 3 AM and I am writing this letter in hopes that YOU somehow get this message and write back. I know it is a small chance, but what alternative to do I have?

* this is in or around Costa Mesa
* no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Tags: burf, craigslist, gummibearsinbeard, hurf, lol, ow, prescriptionpants, tag, underwearincowcatcher
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