Aren’t you tired of swiping in the hopes of running into a specific someone you have an existing, lingering curiosity about? Here’s your chance to be brave—to take the active route instead of the passive one. Let’s connect again. (Entries may be minimally edited for clarity.)
Hot Wheels Fan
Last Mardi Gras, the highlight of the day was when you tapped me on the shoulder and told me your son wanted to take a picture with me. I was dressed as a Hot Wheels race track. I kneeled down next to him, showed him the car that raced around the track on my hat when I tilted my head, and gave him a Hot Wheels car after the picture. This year I’ll have a big racecar head piece, and I hope you’ll find me for another picture.
Shrimply Delightful at Slow Down
We met at Slow Down and talked about our tiny dogs (Sardine & Prissy) and complimented each other’s outfits. You were thrilled to hear about my cocktail shrimp Mardi Gras Day look, I was delighted you had one of my fav Nooworks patterns on. I was locked into hunting down costumes accoutrements and regrettably, did not get your name or contact information. We should have a dog picnic or dress up in silly little outfits for a cocktail or kiss?? Dealer’s choice! Follow-Up: Through kismet/luck/serendipity, I found the person!!
Bark bark bark!
We howled together at the Wit’s End Bad Puppy parade. I had Dalmatian ears and most of my ass out, you wore an oversized “No Gods No Masters” Scrim tee off the shoulder. Am I barking up the wrong tree?
Cleopatra Fanny Pack
Dyke with the gold Cleopatra fanny pack: I was dressed as Joan of Arc at Diva Day and you complimented my outfit. I wanted to give my number, but my hands were full with the sword. I’ve regretted it every day since.
Ultraviolence on Frenchmen
Opposite The Spotted Cat you paraded by in your immaculate bean-studded A Clockwork Orange costume. I casually expressed my appreciation which you accepted with grace, at which point my brain broke down because I wanted to speak to you more but the only idea that came to mind was to call you “Alex DeLegume.” And so in a minor panic I just applauded you as you started walking away. Your response to this was to rush and body check me, with enchantingly ferocious eyes over a satyr’s grin, while you yelled “You wanna start some shit?!” in my face. I was absolutely smitten in that moment, and if I’d had maybe a couple more drinks in me I might have tried to catch up to you to at least try to meet you and learn your name, if not drop to my knees and offer to wreck my entire life for you. I sit now in regret for my callowness and relative sobriety, as being randomly assaulted by you might have been the highlight of my very first Mardi Gras. You are easily the most fascinating and alluring of all the wonderful people I’ve seen this Carnival, including the girl who was standing a few feet away from me with a rubber fish sticking out of her ass.
Honk If You Love Trepanning (Follow-Up)
To my delight, I was mentioned in [February’s] Close Encounters. I have a bumper sticker that says “Honk If You Love Trepanning.” I fondly remember your honking! Once I realized you weren’t angry with me for a traffic violation, I was tickled pink by your vigorous thumbs up. It made my afternoon! I would love to be friends with a fellow trepanation enthusiast! If they are open to it, I am happy to share my email, phone number, social media, etc. I have attached a photo of said bumper sticker to verify my identity. Please let me know! [This original submission was submitted anonymously, so please get in touch if you would like to be connected. -Ed.]
Submit your own close encounter to closeencounters@antigravitymagazine.com or through our new ANONYMOUS Google form. All email addresses will remain confidential. Don’t be a creep.
illustrations by Maegen Guidroz
