Worst of NYC Craigslist: More Stomach-Churning Bike Love

With Levi Leipheimer gathering signatures like a bucket of maple syrup gathers flies, people all over the country apparently moving by bike, and the "Save the Messengers" campaign in full swing, I figured I'd continue to revel in the spirit of togetherness by giving some additional exposure to the bike-related Craigslist "missed connections." Who knows? Perhaps some of the parties concerned will see this, make contact, and go on to find the misery they deserve:

Monday: You were riding your bike and stopped me to say "Hi" - w4m (East Village) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/589379303.html]
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-02-27, 10:30PM EST

at the corner of 2nd Ave & 7th St. You asked me about my day. I was a little spaced out. Maybe we could talk some more sometime?

Sorry, life does not offer second chances. Unless your name is Mario Cipollini. But even then they rarely work out. It’s kind of like wrapping bar tape: you get one shot at perfection, and every time you unwind and re-wrap things just get messier and messier. Considering that this guy rides around town trying to pick up strangers, chances are he’s probably gone and wrapped his sticky underside around someone else by now. Let him go and look for a new roll.

Garrett Popcorn Shop - m4w - 33 (Midtown) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/589073120.html]
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-02-27, 5:36PM EST

Last week, you were in front of me in line at the popcorn shop. You had a bike helmet in your hand and were wearing leg warmers, curly hair, you ran out of the store because you seemed like you were running out of time. You were the most beautiful thing I've even seen. We chatted, post back if you remember what we chatted about.

Did the chat go something like this? Because I think I was behind you guys in line.

M: Hey, do you ride a bike?

W: Yeah.

M: Wow, you’re really brave to ride in the city. I’m afraid of the taxis. I used to have a bike when I lived in Sardinia though. Have you ever been to Sardinia?

W: No.

M: Oh, it’s beautiful. Sheep country, you know. They have delicious sheep’s milk cheese there. Fiore Sardo, Pecorina Sardo, Pecorino Romano... Gosh, my mouth waters just thinking about it. You really can’t get cheese like that here in the States.

W: I’m lactose intolerant.

M: Wow, you’re really missing out. I’ll tell you what is delicious, though. This popcorn. Did you know that Halle Berry eats it?

W: No.

M: Well she does. So what are you getting?

W: I don’t know.

M: Well, I know what I’m getting. I’m getting a two gallon drum of the Macadamia CaramelCrisp. Then, when I get home, I’m going to melt a big hunk of casu marzu all over it. Casu marzu is especially delicious because it contains insect larvae. In Sardinia they call it maggot cheese.

W: Um, I have to go.

M: Hey, wait! Let me give you my number! We’ll have cheese!

Crashing Into You, Ludlow & Rivington - 32 (Lower East Side) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/586785087.html]
Reply to: [deleted]Date: 2008-02-25, 8:05PM EST

Totally my fault, a little lesson in humility...

Hope you're doing okay, I feel bad about smashing my bike into you.

Bloody nose and a fat lip was what I got and most certainly deserved.

All apologies, again.

Thanks for being such a good sport about it all.

While this person doesn’t include details of the collision, I’m just going to assume he was riding a brakeless fixed-gear bicycle which he was unable to stop. Brakeless fixed-gear related injuries are to the early 21st century what LSD freakouts were to the 60s, flared trouser-related slip-and-falls were to the 70s, Walkman-related tinnitus was to the 80s, and mosh pit-related tooth loss was to the 90s. If “When Harry Met Sally” were made today, Billy Crystal definitely would have flattened Meg Ryan at an intersection while trying to stop his IRO.

Sheriff of Nottingham's Daughter - m4w (Chelsea) [original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/585761901.html]
Reply to: [deleted]
Date: 2008-02-24, 11:53PM EST

I was walking West on 23rd Saturday night with my weary Portuguese friend with an empty propane tank on the front rack of my Swedish military bike.

You were charming and on a hopeless search for wine with your friend.

Anyway, I realized we rudely neglected to invite you both to the BBQ when it gets warmer.

“If you couldn’t tell from reading my post, every single aspect of my life is contrived and pretentious. In addition to having a weary Portuguese friend and a Swedish military bike, I prepare my coffee in a French press, relieve myself in a Turkish toilet, wear a West Papuan penis gourd in warm weather, and have an unpronounceable sexually transmitted disease with an indeterminate country of origin. Because having a Portuguese friend is not as charming and whimsical as having a weary Portuguese friend, I make sure he stays weary by arranging inconveniently early dim sum breakfasts, challenging him to regular squash games, and placing phone calls to him in the middle of the night. I do hope you will attend our BBQ this summer, which promises to be well-attended by weary people of various nationalities, all wearing penis gourds, sipping mojitos, and discussing the arts, exotic locales, and vital issues of the day.”
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