In Which Craigslist Loses A Great Deal of Late-Night Business

Missed Connections, MTA

Part I

by Will Hubbard

No Age – “Eraser” (mp3)

At long last there is a way to anonymously shout-out the L-train girls without fear of public humiliation. It’s true, my roommate Dan did pretty well giving out copies of Donald Barthelme’s 40 Stories with his name and phone number scrawled inside. But this can’t work for everyone. The new allows users to post their fleeting, jolty, underground infatuations quickly and easily, redefining forever what it means to miss a connection on the New York subway.

D. R. Hooker – “The Sea” (mp3)

D. R. Hooker – “The Truth” (mp3)

My first foray into the medium was, like probably 85% of the posts, a joke to humiliate an overly-amorous friend. From now on, when someone tells you she “fell in love today on the train”, or “saw my future husband on the subway platform”, you are virtually obligated to concoct a bogus, unrelentingly revealing dispatch to them from the mysterious traveler. Mine was titled “Blue Barbour Coat, Weary Green Eyes”, but you will have to wait for Dan’s imminent post to learn how my little ruse turned out.

El Guincho – “Palmitos Park” (mp3)

I suppose it is a tremendous gift that I have trouble remembering faces. Like most people, I travel the same subway route everyday at nearly the same time, stand at the same place on each platform, enter the same car through the same door, and sit in the same section of seats. In New York there is always someone of aesthetic interest in your vicinity, yet for me there are no constants, no possibility of developing a rapport over time with a subway crush. Perhaps, like the great Sharon Olds, I have prosopagnosia, or face blindness.

Tower Recordings – “Moon Rocks Off” (mp3)

That is, at least, what I thought until a lovely redhead started transferring to the downtown RW with me at least twice a week, knowing, like me, the exact door to stand by for easy access to the 8th Street exit stairwell. Combined with the unconscionable perviness of approaching someone during their morning commute, this woman’s intimidating beauty causes me to avert my eyes to the floor. In doing so I sometimes catch a glimpse of her shoes which strangely, beautifully, are never the same.

Tower Recordings – “Intergalactic Housing Don’t Bother Me” (mp3)

My first draft (“Redhead on the RW with Protean Footwear”) was delightfully problematic: “We transfer from the L to the RW together in the morning. Once I caught you watching me play Brickbreaker on my phone and smiled. I’m the guy with chronic red morning-eye who always carries the green murse.” I considered adding “Buy you breakfast next time?”, but realized my morning grogginess would make this unpleasant. And anyway, the chances of her reading it, being single, and sharing my attraction are about as good as my chances of falling in front of the train with her locked in my peripheral vision. More likely, one of my friends at work would read it and show my boss.

Will Hubbard is a writer living in Brooklyn. He is the contributing editor of ThisRecording, and editor of CapGun Magazine. His blog is TheLovedOnes.


Molly came to the defense of Diablo Cody.

Alex finally came around to Bon Iver.

Will kinda came a little on Jane Birkin

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