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Published November 22, 2010

You probably don’t know my name, since we’ve never met, but I will never forget you. I write this in hopes that one day we may meet again and I can convince you that I am truly the man of your dreams.

When I last saw you (Saturday November 13, 2010 at about 2 p.m.), you were wearing a pair of True Religion blue jeans, black Ugg boots, a purple knitted sweater over a white tank top and you were walking your dog Lady Ga Ga (an obviously pure bred Dandie Dinmont Terrier who seems to be about a year and a half old and extremely healthy; granted, I’m only basing this on a handful of brief dental inspections). You wore a thick, black leather belt and, based on the panty lines in your jeans, you appeared to be wearing a thong (well done).

Since Lady Ga Ga was behaving uncharacteristically obedient that day, you were freed up to place a call to your friend Krista on your Blackberry (I love the new sparkly case, by the way). As you walked west through the Prado, you and Krista discussed the dinner date you had the night before at Cucina Urbana with a bespectacled gentleman named David (I also happened to be at Cucina Urbana dining alone that night, which is the only reason I know David wears glasses). Then you and Krista made plans to go out for drinks. You ended the conversation by telling her that you were happy swimsuit season was over because it meant you didn’t have to worry about being bloated from just having a couple cocktails (although you would miss going to the beach).

At about this time, you changed hiking trails from the Number 2 Trail to the Number 5 Trail and headed northwest, taking a right turn immediately after crossing the Cabrillo Bridge (by the way, nice job dodging that skateboarder). As you walked, you were still sucking on the 3 orange Tic Tacs that you originally placed into your mouth while standing next to the Koi pond adjacent to the Botanical Building (by the way, I’ve always thought that the scent of citrus on a woman’s breath was extremely sexy).

Then, apparently due to your choice in foot wear, you decided to quit your hike early and exited the park at the corner of Upas and Sixth.

I know that walking your dog through Balboa Park is a fairly common occurrence for you, especially on the weekend, so you probably need more detail.

After leaving the park, you walked south toward your condo on Nutmeg Street, where you ultimately returned home. However, you made a few stops along the way, as you often do. First, you stopped at Café Bassam at the corner of Fifth and Redwood and grabbed a double short Americano, with room for cream (your favorite; you certainly are a creature of habit). You appeared to enjoy the Americano, which you drank while sitting at a table along the north wall of the café. However, it left you unsatisfied, so you walked farther south to Evolution and bought a raw hummus wrap (to go), before heading home at about 2:20 p.m. As I’ve done so many times before, I stood across the street and stared at your body while you entered your home, wondering if I’d ever have the chance to make you mine.

I don’t know when or if you will ever read this, but I remain hopeful that it’s soon. Should good fortune grace me and you do happen to find our “missed connection”, please look for me the next time you leave your home. I will be wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and walking approximately 15 paces behind you.

Hope to see you soon (I’m sure I will.).

Signed,

Longing For You In San Diego

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