You're hot. I mean, one of the hottest guys I've seen in Portland, easily. If you'd found me on a fun night out, when I'd had a few drinks in me and a lot more makeup on me, I'd have marched right up to you and told you so. But alas, dear missed connection, you found me in the trash.

You said hi, and I locked up and spewed a weak "what's up?" What the fuck, brain? You muttered something about cleaning house and dumped a terrarium containing one dessicated cricket. I thought about asking if your pet died, but the socially conscious portions of my brain told me that would be a bad idea. Maybe your pet was the cricket? I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm willing to comfort you with open legs.

Also, I found a cup containing $9. Buy you a drink?

• Location: NE 16th ave
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests