There was once a segment on The Ellen Degeneres Show in which Ellen interviewed two people who had met on Craigslist missed connections. This man and woman started talking in line for the bathroom on an airplane. They talked for 45 minutes, and by the time the plane landed, he realized that this woman was his future wife. Stricken with nerves, he was unable to ask for her phone number. After they said goodbye at the baggage claim, she walked out of his life for what he thought was forever.
A few days later, he was talking to his friend about it and his friend suggested that he post a personal ad on Craigslist missed connections. So, he posted a missed connection for her. A friend of hers saw it and forwarded it to her. They began a long distance relationship. Two years later, she moved to Chicago to be with him and they were house-hunting. He emailed her a Craigslist ad from its real estate section and said that she should check out the house he found. When she opened the ad, it said, “Will you marry me?”
The story was definitely romantic and inspiring. I had gone bowling with some friends a few nights before I heard about this, and I spent most of the night talking to this adorable man named Topher. Before I had gathered up the courage to give him my number, his friends grabbed him and with a “Come on, man, we’re leaving” dragged him away. "Topher" was an unusual name...most people opt for the first half, "Chris". Missed connections had worked for the Ellen people. I thought, I should post on missed connections. There's no way this plan could fail!
I posted the ad: “Topher, you disappeared before I could challenge you to a bowling match. Scared?-Melissa”.
Within an hour, I had received a number of frightening responses. Some in English, some not; some with close up pictures of male genitalia, some without. One even used a definition of the word “bowling” that I was unfamiliar with and I won't repeat here. Just when I was about to delete my ad, scared that gmail would close my email account for violating some sort of rule that only applies to desperate women, he responded. The man that I was looking for! “Melissa? My friend found this and sent it to me. I’m psyched that you found a way to contact me!”
I admit that I was skeptical. This was a little bit too easy. I posted the ad and the same day, Topher appeared. But, he answered all of the questions right. He knew the name of the bowling alley where we met. He was from the area that Topher had told me he was from. Everything seemed to "ad" up, eh, folks? Am I right? *hears groans and sees eye rolls*
After some lovey-dovey emails back and forth, he asked me out to dinner. I was thrilled and couldn’t wait to see him. I counted down the hours to our date Friday night. When Friday came, I walked into the sushi restaurant where we had agreed to meet. And then this scruffy, smelly man approached me. I just looked at him. “I’m Topher,” he said.
"No, you’re not,” I replied.
“Yes, I am,” he said.
I just stared at him. He said, “I got us a table.”
I told him, “You’re not the Topher that I was expecting.”
“My name is Topher.” He said.
“Well, that’s great,” I replied, “But, unfortunately, that wasn’t the only criteria that I was looking for. I was looking for the guy that I met in a bowling alley.”
“I have met girls at bowling alleys before,” he replied.
“Ok, but did you meet me at a bowling alley?”
“Well, no.”
“See what I’m getting at here?”
ImposTopher looked quizzically at me, mulling this over.
I didn’t understand this guy’s logic. I was looking for the Topher that I had met at the bowling alley. This guy seemed to think that it was enough that people called him Topher and that he had been to a bowling alley at some point.
I immediately said that it was nice meeting him and left the restaurant, shaking my head, sad that I would not be getting my Ellen story after all.
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