Dear Rold Gold Pretzels,

These days, it seems all my friends are gettings Missed Connections™. But never me. Never me. Is it some sort of character flaw, Rold Gold Pretzels? Is it because I didn’t buy mushrooms off of that guy who offered them to me from his moving bicycle tonight? Do I lack that “joie de vivre” that inspires greater men to lie curled around their porcelain thrones until the first rays of dawn grant sweet, sweet oblivion? Could it simply be because I spend my Friday nights looking at bookshelves on Craigslist, alpha-testing Firefox plugins and drinking the Raynal V.S.O.P. that I purchased for $9.99 at Trader Joe’s to “cook with”? Do the women of today have something against rhetorical questions, Rold Gold Pretzels? Well, here’s a Missed Connection™ for you:

Mojitos on the moon – m4w

You: A tall, beautiful blonde in a long green coat that probably came from Urban Outfitters but could have been military surplus if you ignore the egregious violation of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”

Me: The dude who was mocking (to no one in particular) the 15-minute Girls Gone Wild infomercial(?!) on TV to cover the fact that I was paying it rather too much attention.

I would have struck up a conversation, but you were too busy showing off your engagement ring.

Yes, Rold Gold Pretzels, it was exactly like that one Alanis Morissette song “Ironic”, except that Alanis didn’t want to write about the part where if she walked into the Asti I would burn her with my cigarette.

In conclusion, please send me at least 1 but no more than 3 women who are too neurotic or socially inept to communicate except via anonymous “year 3000 bullshit” classified-ad-type web sites. Plus one box of your assorted pretzels.

Best Regards,
Ethan James

P.S. Let’s all send our very warmest Vitamin C4 Spring Break Wishes to Hiram Coffee, who is serving as roadie for The Devil Makes Three until late this month. Even though he is a jerk for leaving us and I need his help for all of my “real” “articles”. Last I heard, he was in Vegas and had just ridden a mechanical bull. He may or may not have soiled himself. I wasn’t entirely clear on that last bit, as it’s difficult to convey tongue-in-cheekedness via SMS without emoticons.

P.P.S. FUCK emoticons.