But Alaska, as they always say, is different, and it deserves its own version of the Craigslist favorite. So with all due deference to Mr. Kuperberg, One Hot Mess is (as usual) happy to oblige on behalf of The Last Frontier:
MISSED CONNECTIONS FOR ALASKANS
You: Sitting in the last row of first class on Alaska Airlines flight 73 from Juneau to Anchorage last Monday at 6:45 a.m.
Me: Sitting in the first row of last class on the same flight.
I forgot my earbuds so instead of sleeping, I had to listen as you described every single detail of your life in Alaska to your seatmate, beginning with your drive up the Al-Can in 1975 in a Winebago and up to and including the precise nature and duration of this work trip you were on. If you see this, please let me know how the past week of your life turned out. Also, I need to know more of your views on the state's current fiscal crisis.
I was at the airport gate in DCA, waiting to board a flight to Anchorage. You were both sitting next to me, and kept pompously referring to our senators "Lisa" and "Dan." Then I realized you actually were Lisa and Dan. If you see this please do something about everyone getting shot all the time. Thanks.
At the Alaskan during Folk Fest in Juneau. You were the cute guy with a beard, wearing Xtratuffs and Carharts and playing a fiddle. I'm sure it will be very easy to find you again as there were only 500 other people who looked exactly like you in the bar that night. If you see this, I've got a couch
bed you can sleep on in next time you're in town from Fairbanks.
We chatted briefly on the Ski Train. I was too shy to ask for your number, but later realized through Facebook that we had 15 mutual friends, at least six of whom you had already dated. (I thought you looked familiar). Still, I'd like my turn.
You were standing next to me in line at the Bear's Tooth while waiting to see David Grisman. You were wearing an outfit that was head-to-toe Patagonia and holding a BPA-free Nalgene water bottle with duct tape and Get High on the Chugach and Friends Don't Let Friends Eat Farmed Fish stickers on it. You were talking to your slightly-shorter and less good-looking friend about the skookum snow conditions at Alyeska and where you placed in the Crow Pass race. You also had a ponytail and a trucker hat. If we met in person I'm sure I would hate you.
I saw you at The Whale's Tail in the Captain Cook and eavesdropped long enough to ascertain that you're a reality television show producer from L.A. If you see this, please get in touch because I live here and I want to be on TV.