MISSED CONNECTION

To the befreckled girl in the red trench. We met at an apartment showing in the Inner Sunset. You recently moved here from Boston, you went to Northeastern for Pre-Med, but hated Physics and decided to take some time off. You've been to India and studied in Spain where they speak Spanish with a lisp. Your father went to William and Mary and this is your first time living east of the Mississippi, too. You're sleeping on a couch right now, just like me. We were both competing, to be as charming, as enticing, as interesting to these sisters so we could live in their apartment. But I only wanted to talk to you. I wanted to ask you about Boston, I wanted to know why you decided to move to San Francisco, I wanted to talk to you about sewing, and India. I didn't want to talk to them. I wanted to shut them out. I wanted you to be the one who was showing the apartment. I liked you. I felt a connection. After we left, we stood outside in the dark fog and talked about how hard it is to find a place out here, to get noticed, to make a connection. I wanted, so badly, to tell you what I was feeling. But like a 15 year old girl without experience in such matters, I looked into your eyes and hoped you would just understand. Maybe you did. I hope you did. "Can I have your number? We should be roommates!" I wanted to blurt out. How easy... how awkward. "Good luck!" we said simultaneously, turning away. *Jinx* I thought as you disappeared into the fog.