In our quest to do good in the world — shut up —, we've come across a young 4 Times Square temp who craves to eat in the Conde Nast Cafeteria. Boy needs escort! The temp in question is between 22 and 27, single, and supposedly cute and funny. (And, we presume, straight.) Any takers? Send us an email at tips@gawker.com, and we'll send you his email. (Yes, we'll keep your email private.) Our boy writes:

For at least the next two weeks, I'm serving as an independent consultant for a company in 4 Times Square. Aside from my wholly noble scheme of sneaking into a mag job and becoming a Conde Nastie myself, I have but one goal: to find that damn cafeteria.

But it's like trying to find Area 51 or Osama! If you ask about a cafeteria, all anyone knows about is the Skadden cafe for legals and losers on the 37th floor. Some have HEARD of the CN cafe, but no one's actually been there.

I need some info, man. Do you know anything about this mystical place? Which floor? Best way to sneak in? Any willing tour guides?<</blockquote>

(The sccop: he's between 22 and 27, single, and, when asked to describe himself in 15 words, said "Handsome, witty, sociable, creative. Adventurous, daring, perhaps unrestrained. And of course, hungry for lunch." So at least we know he likes himself! I smell Ivy League.)

You know the deal: send us an email, and you KNOW we're not responsible for any sort of murderizing, violence, hatefulness, bad shoe choices, or anything else resulting from this potential introduction. We figure the worst that could happen is someone has a boring lunch — but you still be agreeing to indemnify and hold me harmless and shit like that, because really the worst that could happen is that everyone in 4 Times Square is a rat-eating serial killer.