323 results found in Missed Connections, San Antonio

You were behind me in line Sunday morning, humming along to the mariachi and debating red or green salsa. I wanted to tell you your smile made the whole place brighter, but lost my nerve when our orders came up. If you remember the guy with the Yankees cap and too much coffee, let’s get breakfast together?

You dropped a basket of tomatoes and we both scrambled to pick them up, ending up with red hands and giggles. I was the flustered girl in the straw hat who tried to make a tomato pun but failed. Want to try again over some fresh salsa?

We shared a bench waiting for the rain to stop, laughing at the tourists and both eyeing my purple umbrella. You dashed off to catch your boat tour and I realized too late I never got your name—just your contagious laughter. If you see this, maybe we can share an umbrella again?

You were behind me in line Sunday morning, humming along to the mariachi and debating red or green salsa. I wanted to tell you your smile made the whole place brighter, but lost my nerve when our orders came up. If you remember the guy with the Yankees cap and too much coffee, let’s get breakfast together?

You shielded me with your bright blue umbrella when the rain surprised us near the coffee stand. I never got your name, but your laugh made that gray morning a little sunnier—I’d love to buy you a coffee in exchange for that umbrella kindness.

You shielded me with your bright blue umbrella when the rain surprised us near the coffee stand. I never got your name, but your laugh made that gray morning a little sunnier—I’d love to buy you a coffee in exchange for that umbrella kindness.

We cracked jokes together waiting for our food at the last Spurs home game, debating mustard vs. ketchup. You called me “the condiment philosopher,” and I wanted to ask your name, but lost you when my friends pulled me away. Let’s finish that debate over a real meal?

We salsa danced to the street band’s music, and you spun me like I’d never been spun before. I lost you in the crowd while looking for my friends—if you’re still up for another dance, I haven’t stopped smiling since.

You shielded me with your bright blue umbrella when the rain surprised us near the coffee stand. I never got your name, but your laugh made that gray morning a little sunnier—I’d love to buy you a coffee in exchange for that umbrella kindness.

We cracked jokes together waiting for our food at the last Spurs home game, debating mustard vs. ketchup. You called me “the condiment philosopher,” and I wanted to ask your name, but lost you when my friends pulled me away. Let’s finish that debate over a real meal?

We salsa danced to the street band’s music, and you spun me like I’d never been spun before. I lost you in the crowd while looking for my friends—if you’re still up for another dance, I haven’t stopped smiling since.

You shielded me with your bright blue umbrella when the rain surprised us near the coffee stand. I never got your name, but your laugh made that gray morning a little sunnier—I’d love to buy you a coffee in exchange for that umbrella kindness.