French-Caribbean Fusion, Tame Impala, and Soup Dumplings (Brooklyn)
washinton ave near lincoln
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We shared a meal and wine at a French/Caribbean fusion spot, then somehow ended up at a Tame Impala show where you grinded up against me like it was a middle school Valentine’s Day dance. You talked a lot... but was cute. Oh! Come to think of it, we just passed our one week anniversary of that first kiss this past Monday. Happy Anniversary!
That night, you walked me to the train like a gentleman (yes, you were the gentleman) and stopped me from spending my night at Coney Island. I was nervous and honestly in another dimension from smoking, so I forgot to get your number. I was crushed but the universe gave us another shot.
The next day, we randomly bumped into each other in Chinatown. We shared soup dumplings, which was when you learned I can’t fully open my mouth and struggled to fit one in. We bonded over our shared love of oddly textured foods. I think your eyes were green or maybe blue. Teal? Whatever color they were, they were beautiful.
You met Penny, who loved your snuggles so much she actually pushed me away. We stayed up all night talking, laughing, kissing. You complimented my chest, and I wanted to return the favor, but compliments can be tough for me sometimes. I’m working on it.
I called you an Uber, we exchanged info, and your name is Mia. But the next day, I left my phone on top of a toilet paper dispenser at Newark Airport, and by the time I realized, I was already on the plane back to LA. And just like that, you were a memory.
I hope you see this. I’d love to invite you to Rochester to join me for our film on the 11th. I know it’s a long shot, but I also know how much you love Craigslist...