In case you've been under a boulder, we're currently living in an era in which most romantic interactions are sparked via the Internet. The night turns out to be an atomic bomb of disappointment.
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On our respective commutes, we scope out the guy situation on our train car and attempt to make flirtatious eye contact with one object of our hypothetical affection. (Or, at the very least, a hilarious Craigslist missed connection). Sure, but you never know when you're going to meet your soul mate on the G train.
But here's the thing: My friend has some kind of flirtatious magnetic power.
One December evening a few years ago, I rode a crowded 5 train home after a long day at the office, sardined between a blue-haired girl playing music without headphones and a middle-aged man with halitosis.
Finally arriving at my stop, I exited the crowded car quickly -- prematurely jubilant over the bottle of wine and leftover stir-fry that awaited me at home.
It happens a thousand times a day to millions of people.