If you live in New York right now, take a moment to stand up, take a step away from the computer, take in a deep breath, and pat yourself on the back. Why? Certainly not because you're paying $2,700 a month for the privilege of housing. No. Because you live in a city where everyday is an adventure, where anything is possible and where new romance lurks around every corner and in every police precinct from The Tombs right on down to Central Booking on the Lower East Side...

A city where an icebreaker like, "I was arrested on battery, but it was bullshit" can make the apple of your eye swoon!

(To all of you Queerty readers outside of New York who frequent Craigslist's Missed Connections section in hopes of finding your own domestic abuse partner, we'd love it if you e-mailed us anything you think worthy of public praise. I'd like to do a wrap of weird posts at the end of each day—if for no other reason than to know that creepy, fucked-up romance isn't limited to Manhattan's police precincts.)