Missed Connections

A short story by Carol Grant

Ding! Ding! “Stand Clear of the Closing Doors, Please.”

She was compressed against a crowd of sweaty strangers just inside the doors of the Brooklyn bound F train as it stopped at the Broadway-Lafayette station. The doors closed but five seconds later, they opened again and more people tried to shove their way into the cramped car. She was hot, sticky and weary and yet was determined to stay facing the doors so she could make a quick exit two stops away at Delancey Street. As she gazed out of the open doorway, she looked straight into the eyes of a tall young man who was holding a bass instrument case. She looked away quickly when he gave her a friendly smile.

Ding! Ding! “Stand Clear of the Closing Doors, Please.”

The doors closed but re-opened again almost immediately. He was still standing directly in front of the door and she was drawn to look at him again. All the well-worn romantic clichés raced through her mind: “Their eyes locked,” “She felt short of breath,” “Her heart was pounding in her chest.” Despite her almost painful innate shyness, she tried to move to one side of the doorway and actually motioned for him to try and get onto the train. He smiled broadly, shrugged his shoulders and shook his head implying that it was impossible for him to squeeze in.

Ding! Ding! “Stand Clear of the Closing Doors, Please.”

This time the doors remained closed and the train began to move. She looked at him one last time and to her pleasant surprise, he winked and waved at her as the train headed into the dark tunnel. As his face vanished, she found herself feeling a mixture of great excitement and deep disappointment. What if he had boarded the train and stood beside her? Would they have talked? Would they have hastily exchanged e-mails or phone numbers? Would she have felt shy and awkward as she usually did with men? Would she have looked away and remained silent and tongue-tied? She would never know.

As she walked home later to her fifth floor walk-up studio apartment on a dingy block of Broome Street, she couldn’t get his face out of her mind.  Not only was he extremely handsome with a great smile, but best of all he was a musician. She wondered if he played bass in a rock, jazz or classical group. Would he understand how devastated she had felt when she would tell him that she had been a Juilliard piano student but had been requested by her teacher to take a leave of absence to work on her “lack of motivation and assertiveness?” Would he be disappointed to learn she was working as a sales person in J&R’s Classical Music section? Did he live on the LES or in Brooklyn? Was he a New Yorker or just visiting the city? With her luck he was probably living in an artsy Williamsburg condo with a beautiful, sexy singer.  In her tiny, stifling apartment she suddenly remembered acquaintances at Juilliard discussing the website “Missed Connections” where people in the city try to reconnect with someone with whom they have had a fleeting interaction. She never thought she would consider submitting such a search, but immediately she found herself silently composing a submission:

TUESDAY, JULY 9TH , AROUND 6PM,. BROADWAY/LAFAYETTE STATION ON THE BROOKLYN BOUND F TRAIN. YOU WERE A VERY TALL (at least 6’4’’), 20- SOMETHING MAN WITH SHOULDER LENGTH BLOND HAIR STANDING ON THE PLATFORM WITH MANY OTHERS WHO WERE ALSO TRYING TO SQUEEZE ONTO THE TRAIN.  YOU WERE CARRYING A BASS CASE. YOU WERE WEARING KHAKI SHORTS WITH A DARK BLUE T-SHIRT WHICH SAID “STRING PLAYERS HAVE GOOD VIBRATIONS!” I AM 5FT.8INS. WITH LONG BROWN HAIR PULLED BACK IN A PONYTAIL. I WAS WEARING A YELLOW SUNDRESS WITH SANDALS AND WAS CARRYING A TRADER JOE’S ORANGE CANVAS BAG. WE MADE EYE CONTACT AND YOU WAVED AND WINKED AT ME AS THE TRAIN PULLED AWAY. I AM ALSO A MUSICIAN AND PLAY THE PIANO.  IF YOU SEE THIS AND WISH TO CONNECT WITH ME, PLEASE REPLY HERE.

All night she tossed and turned and slept fitfully. She kept re-writing the paragraph in her mind. When she finally got up at 6am, she went to her computer and immediately sent the message to the “Missed Connections” website. She knew that if she thought about it any longer, she would not have the nerve to send it.

During the following two days, she lived in a state of nervous anticipation and excitement. She thought about the young man constantly and fantasized about the conversations and activities they would share when he connected with her. Every evening, she took the F train home around 6pm and her heart pounded when the train pulled into the Broadway station. She searched the platform in vain. At work she checked the “Missed Connections” site so often that her boss was on her case.

On Friday morning, July 12th, she took the train to work earlier than usual and felt lucky to actually score a seat. She absent-mindedly picked up a copy of The Daily News  which someone had left on the seat beside her. The headlines screamed:

                            NOT A BASS IN THAT CASE!!

                            GRIZZLY MURDER VICTIM’S BODY

                            DISCOVERED IN INSTRUMENT CASE!!

The body of the Fort Greene woman, Sophie Anderson, reported missing on Monday, July 6th,  has been found and identified her parents. The body had been stashed in a bass case and dumped in a vacant lot near the Gowanus Canal. Three boys playing nearby saw a tall, blond man leave the case and walk quickly away. They immediately pried the case open and made their gruesome discovery. They called the police and gave a scant description of the man.

The only lead that Detective Bruno Fonfara of the NYPD has released so far is information given to them by the victim’s roommate who remains unidentified at this time. She reports that Sophie had been going to meet a man she had made contact with through the social network internet site “Missed  Connections.”

Police are requesting that anyone with information about this case, contact them directly or through the NYPD  CrimeStoppers  Anonymous Tipline at 1-800-577-TIPS.

 

Carol Grant, originally from Montreal, loves to people-watch and eaves-drop on the buses and trains of New York, her adopted city. she has always heard that there are “eight million stories in the naked city” and “Missed Connections” may be one of them.