The classifieds have

captured my imagination. When Rupert Holmes sang his piña colada song—placing a personal, whereupon reuniting with his intended—I got misty (it was only later I realized they were both seeking affairs). Then Madonna was Desperately Seeking Susan, and maybe I’m easily intrigued or a hapless romantic but I began avidly reading the classifieds. Recently a man was reading palms by candlelight in the streets of New Orleans when he said I’d already met my true love. Great. Then Alan Green shares his psychic experience in what could be the longest, most passionate personal ad ever. Does eye contact constitute meeting? Did we meet on the Metro last week or in the Village last year? The only thing left is to respond in missed connections.

P.S. I have all the letters.

Washington, D.C.

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