An Open Letter To My Missed Connections Writer
I wanted to offer a public thank you. Your words were very sweet and demonstrated that we had connected at some point and you had retained some key personal details about me that I probably don’t even remember sharing. I don’t doubt your sincerity, but I am starting to second-guess my memory, which is usually impeccable.
You couldn’t possibly know that I’ve been stressing about rejection – of all varieties – lately and worrying about my ability to make a good first impression. When you’re self-employed, every professional interaction is like a job interview or first date. It feels as if you have to be on at all times. I run with some people who are very good at that, but I have to do whatever the non-athletic equivalent is of punching sides of beef in a walk-in freezer a la Rocky to get myself psyched up. Knowing that I managed to charm at least one person whose path I’ve crossed to a degree that they were willing to document it in public print eased some of that tension.
Also, sometimes, I worry that I take my eyeliner to an Avril Lavigne level, so it’s nice to be validated that I haven’t ventured into raccoon territory.
After a minor bout of worry over the possibility that you might be a professional colleague, married or possibly fresh out of high school, I’ve decided that’s pretty irrelevant to the fact that your posting made my day – unless you’re trying to recruit me into your underground polygamist sect, in which case, no thank you, sir.
Please note that I will have a little extra bounce in my step (and it’s not just my still aching ankle) this week and that I will be side-eyeing all the men of my acquaintance – both online and offline – for a clue as to who you are and how we might know one another.
Thanks again, stranger.
All the very best,