warby parker at grand central

Terminal, 25 Grand Central, New York, NY 10017 near 42nd and Park, New York City NY

Description

just wrote this poem ( on the way home from the warby parker at grand central, where i met an incredible woman that i'll probably never see again. admittedly, i started writing it as a joke, but if you (a Black woman with long curly hair) were at warby parker this evening, helping me (a hopelessly romantic 30-year-old, who's 6 ft tall Black dude wearing a green hoodie, jeans and a grey mask) choose glasses as he made bad jokes that you kindly laughed at, please get in touch : ) you can also read it at bit[dot]ly/missed-connection missed connection i never thought i’d say this but i just met the love of my life at warby parker — that is, of course, if love were measured by the joy we’d forever share every time we told the story of how we met. it would be quite the spectacle (get it?). i’d lead with she helped me choose my glasses, so i guess it was love at first sight. then you’d add, i could tell he was conflicted — i just wanted him to see things clearly. then, once silence punctuated the room’s roaring laughter, i’d say but seriously, i really couldn’t see anything. heck, i couldn’t even see her in my future. and you’d close with, he didn’t just lack sight. he lacked vision. and when the laughter stopped, i’d explain that i didn’t actually think you were the love of my life until i saw you again on the subway platform. this is how love stories start, i thought, as i thanked you for helping me at the store. but you were taking the 5 downtown, and i was taking the 4. and as the 5 train roared into the station, louder than the laughs we’ll never hear, i wondered what i’d say if i ever saw you again. something romantic, i hoped, like asking you on a date to the place we first met. so what should we do after we finish buying glasses? you’d ask. then i’d turn to you and say, i guess we’ll see.