Since Craigslist established a home for personal ads calling out for a second chance at a passing or failed romantic interaction, "missed connections" have become a source of entertainment for the bored and perhaps mildly hopeful. Recently, the New Yorker had some fun creating fictional "Missed Connections for A-holes" that are, in truth, a bit better constructed than most of the ads you run into on Craigslist.
That got us to thinking about our own little corner of the world, and the tropes of nerds in love- shy, awkward (or not), but also passionate about geek culture. If TechRepublic took a cue from Craigslist and set up a missed connections section (don't get your hopes up), what might we find?
Here are 10 fictional missed connections for tech geeks. May you live long and prosper.
I'd heard they existed...
Like Venus rising from her scallop shell, you stood up from your cubicle. I looked up from my monitors, taken aback by your beauty bathed in fluorescent light.
A rare sprite.
A female programmer.
This call may be monitored
I called tech support when my router malfunctioned. I was frazzled. You were perfectly modulated - my rock through a trying time. I knew immediately that for the rest of my life, you'd be the only one I want asking me if I've turned it off and turned it on again.
I was pouring myself coffee in the break room, bleary-eyed from too much code and not enough sleep. I saw your shoes when you walked through the door. We never made eye contact; I didn't even dare look at your face, but I felt that anyone with the Apple command symbol tattooed on his ankle had to be a person I needed in my life. Tomorrow I'll make coffee for two?
Start me up
You: Pitching your startup to a harassed-looking man in a business suit, walking down Market Street in San Francisco. You were magnificent: "It's like Uber meets Instagram for dental hygienists."
I'd invest in that.
High levels of engagement
My boss asked me to get analytics on customer response to our company's rebranding campaign. You gave me data and so much more. If only you could do a survey on my heart. Results would be conclusive. I love you.
At a social media conference. Through the crowd I saw you with not one, but two Smart phones. And an iPad. Like a whirlwind of grace and gumption, reaching out into the ethers, scooping up customer engagement, tracking every mention and reference on the Internet and responding with wit and aplomb. Your hair was perfectly gelled. Could it be? Yes. Right before my eyes- a social media rock star.
This love is valid
After staring at a piece of code that wouldn't work for 20 minutes, I was ready to scrap it and start over. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to do anything but keep staring and nervously tear tiny pieces off my empty styrofoam cup. That's when I heard you- "Close the <p> tag."
I did. It worked. But you were gone. If I don't find out who you are, it will <br>my heart.</br>
Following my heart
It started a month ago. I got a notification that you'd retweeted a joke I made about Internet Explorer. The minute I saw your avatar, I wanted to be there with you, drenched in sun, sporting a matching pair of Aviators. Now every time I tweet, I tweet for you. Maybe one day we'll @ reply each other.
I hope you're not a bot.
Uploading my feelings
You: Diligently working to bring the company's storage infrastructure into the 21st century.
Me: My head is in the cloud.
Cut from the same cloth
Saw you sitting at a nearby table at Starbucks, tapping away on your laptop. We wore matching scarves.
At last, a kindred spirit.
You looked uncomfortable.
Erin Carson has nothing to disclose. She doesn't hold investments in the technology companies she covers.
Erin Carson is a Staff Writer for TechRepublic. She covers the impact of social media in business and the ways technology is transforming the future of work.