Verpasste Anschlüsse! // Zmeškání Přípoje!

An anonymous aristocrat and long-time devotee from Eastern Europe has sent me the following transcription of a “Missed Connections” post-board from 1890’s Prague. In return he has merely asked that I sign off on several boxes of Earth from his native soil which are to be deposited in the old abandoned school building at Cumberland and Murray. This will go well.

beautiful girl at prague station with the wall-eye – m4w

It was 9:34 in the morning when I saw you getting off the train from Minsk. Whether you saw me or not is another question for the physiologists at Heidelberg. It was either me that caught the blessed ray of your single mannerist glance, or the damned dachshund beside me. I understand that the dachshund and yourself both have crossed eyes, and that there is therefore a natural connection between you. Nevertheless, I should like to plea my suit to you at length. Chaperoned tea?

Old Jew -- You Told Me You Were Going to Cracow!!!

You told me you were going to Cracow. You really wanted me to think you were going to Lemberg, but I knew you really were headed to Cracow, so why did you lie about it?

mensch, 47, pickled herring

You were carrying a beautiful looking jar of pickled herring on the corner of Szlaski and Coleslaw. I would very  much like to purchase one or several of these comestables at a reasonable rate. It has been all but impossible to get them, especially since Old Schmuyl caught the Geschraken in his Chutz. I am destined to leave Prague in a fortnight and would be harangued day and night by my seven bastard shadow-children in Lemberg if I return to them as herringless as I left. I just need that fish so damn bad.

Hunchback in my House on Himmelstrasse – husband 4 wife

The marriage agent assured me you didn’t have any blemishes at all. Turns out you have a hunchback! And now we’re married. How am I supposed to console myself? You are at least making a nice soup for supper I hope. See you at 4:30.

Where is my umbrella?

I had just purchased a marvellous black umbrella from the street vendor. So genteel! I left it at the door of the medical lecture. One of you scumbags made off with it like a cat mit a knackwurst. Who are you to go around taking people’s umbrellas?

Are you married?

Saturday Afternoon, Green Fan at Don Giovanni – gentleman 4 duchess (or higher?)

You were coquettishly cooling yourself with a green fan at last week’s performance of Don Giovanni. You laughed most heartily at Leporello’s recitatives, but turned away yawning at Donna Anna’s aria. The fellow with the red neck kerchief was clearly in your good graces at some point, but the manner in which you derided his snuff-box shows your intentions with him could never be serious.

A game of whist?

Beans

You tried to guess what I ate for supper yesterday. You guessed beans. You were wrong, I had beans two nights ago. Only later did I realize you were looking at some beans that were caught in my beard. It’s not often that happens. I like to take a bath at least once a month – whether I need it or not! But anyway, if the beans looked good to you, I could probably bake you some.

Golem -- Friday Night at “Das Ghetto” - m4w

They called you “the Golem” at the club because you were so Rubinesque. I nearly dropped my seltzer when I first laid eyes on your tuchus. When the Klezmer cover of Blue Danube started up I asked you for a dance. Such Tverking there was! But then your friend in the head-dress totally shmuck-blocked me. What a kleine nachtmusik it could’ve been…

Give me a ring some time -- we grab some supper ! I know a great Borscht place. (It’s my mother’s house).

shouting "to belgrade!" before the statue of radetzky - w4m

I saw you yesterday - a plump man on crutches dressed in Austrian military uniform. You were shouting "to Belgrade!" before the statue of Radetzky. Maybe you saw me? I had a pink dress on and I'm a little cross-eyed. I am from Minsk and am looking for a crazed, homeless local to show me around the city... Do call on me with flowers, or herring.

at the bottom of the moldau – a creepy poem! - m4w

I saw you walking dreamily by the Moldau looking all gothic and bohemian. Literally. Are you from Bohemia? Do you know my uncle Jaroslav? Anyway, I thought you were cute enough to write this creepy poem for. Enjoy!

At the bed of the Moldau

Wander the brinefish

There lay three Kings buried in Prague

The great doesn’t stay so

The small doesn’t neither

The night has twelve hours

And then comes the day,

And then comes the day.