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Best Missed Connection New York 2010 - Craigslist's Missed Connections

What better way to capture the zeitgeist of the city (and its denizens) at any particular moment than Craigslist's Missed Connections? And, yes, there is one that we think does that better than all the rest, not least because it goes further than man-saw-woman-across-crowded-subway-platform, and not most because it seems too good to be true. It even incorporates bedbug infestations! And STDs! And that's just the beginning. Without further ado:

"I had bedbugs, you had herpes - m4w - 29 (Williamsburg Greenpoint)

Damn, I wish I had that conversation to do over again. We met at Boulevard Tavern where people were wishing Harold a happy birthday. We both had a little too much to drink, and began discussing relationship deal breakers. It just so happened that this was a day or so after I awoke with what felt like mosquito bites on my arms and shoulders, and I told you that I thought those might be bedbug bites. You told me that you would never sleep in a bed that had bedbugs or with a man who slept with bedbugs and I, offended, told you that I would never sleep with a woman who ever had an outbreak of herpes. So then you stalked off, leaving me with my PBR to wonder how an evening that began with such promise could go so badly.

OK, first of all, I got rid of most of my bedding, washed the rest in very hot water, encased the mattresses in vinyl encasements, and brought in an exterminator. He is convinced from the pattern and number of bites that it was a spider that got me, not bedbugs. It has been ten days since I last got bit, and if there were bedbugs there, I would have been bitten every night since. Did not happen, so maybe it was a spider or mosquito. No matter, the place has been cleaned and sprayed, so there is less chance of bedbugs here than wherever else you might choose to end up. As far as the herpes crack goes, I don't know if you have it or not, but I use condoms, and you could use Valtrex, so why should this stop us? I felt a connection with you, a real one, a surprising one. It isn't often that a man like me, creating synthetic derivatives at Goldman and living in SoHo with all those pretentious artist types, gets to meet a girl with your look and sensibilities. Most of the women I end up meeting tend to be Russian skanks, with that "I am looking for some Big Stupid American with Many Dollar" look in their otherwise dead, soulless eyes. But you . . . you are so different. I think there is something there between us worth pursuing, and we should not let the false possibility of bedbugs or blisters get between us. Write back. I want a mulligan."

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