I saw you near the shuttlecocks: Kansas City’s almost romances

These are “Missed Connection” entries found on the Internet and local bulletin boards in Kansas City.

To the Girl at the Nelson-Atkins Museum Who Said “Oops” After Bumping Into the Giant Shuttlecock

You were wearing a red hoodie and Doc Martens, and you spilled coffee on your museum map while trying to take a selfie with the giant birdie. I said, “Need a hand?” and you said, “No, I need a nap.” I laughed too hard and snorted. You giggled and walked away toward the Impressionists. I followed for a bit but got distracted by a guy arguing loudly with a tour guide about whether Monet invented blue. If you’re out there, I’d still like to be the hand you don’t need.

To the Guy Who Sat Next to Me on the MAX Bus Holding a Blender

You boarded at Main and 39th holding an unplugged Ninja blender like it was a newborn. You told me you were returning it because it “blended your soul too hard.” I was on my way to my third job interview of the week and had a jelly stain on my tie, but you didn’t flinch. We both laughed when the driver hit a pothole and someone in the back screamed, “It’s happening!” I got off at Union Station and you said, “May your smoothies be chunky, but your life be smooth.” Who are you?

To the Man in Front of Me at Gates BBQ Who Ordered “Brisket and Redemption”

You were wearing cargo shorts in November and had a Bluetooth earpiece in but weren’t talking to anyone. When the cashier yelled “Hi, may I help you?” you answered with, “Yes, ma’am, I’m here to heal.” You got brisket, baked beans, and a Diet Dr. Pepper. I was behind you with my sad little turkey sandwich order, feeling deeply unworthy. I tried to make eye contact, but you were too busy pouring six different sauces into one container. Let’s get sauced together.

To the Woman in the Chiefs Jacket Who Rode the Ferris Wheel Alone at Union Station

You got in the car ahead of me and insisted on riding solo because “some moments are sacred.” You stared straight ahead, majestic, like someone trying to contact the football gods with your thoughts. I admired your commitment to solitude, but I also wanted to sit in the same car and ask if you believe in destiny or Mahomes more. If you see this, I was the guy with the churro and the crushed dream of asking your name. Call me?

To the Guy at Loose Park Who Tried to Pretend His Dog Wasn’t Stealing My Picnic

Your schnauzer took my entire wedge of brie and you said, “Wow, he’s normally lactose intolerant.” You were wearing flip flops and had one AirPod in, probably listening to a podcast about astral projection or brisket technique. I wanted to be mad, but you handed me a grape Capri Sun and said, “Let’s call it even.” I thought about proposing on the spot. If you remember me—girl in the sundress trying to catch a dog while screaming, “Not the Manchego!”—let’s meet again. I’ll bring the crackers. You bring that dog.