The Chatroom. The petri dish of "missed connnections".
A cute-ish guy (his screen name says “cute-ish guy”) with today's link of New York Times beside his name pings me twice. I close the window—he’s too forward, I’m not ready to talk. Besides, I am hungry. I walk to the kitchen and get a banana.
He sends me a monkey icon. I pace the room. Is this a sign? I am eating a banana and he sends me a monkey icon. Is he the one?
I struggle with the idea.
Finally, after the third ping, I type back with a hesitant “Yes?” My hands are shaking, nervous at the prospect. The screen says “cute-ish guy is entering text” He spends a good 10 minutes trying to emancipate the thought from his head onto the screen. He knows I am watching the screen, waiting. Oh, the impotency of it all!
All this time, I am practicing witty opening lines in my head:
1. You can do it!
2. Excited huh?
3. It starts with one hello.
He gives up.
I do not attempt.
*Actually, “cute-ish guy” is the author’s hubby-in-fact. He finally calls and asks “Ano gusto mo, Jollibee or McDo?”
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