Craigslist personals are my guiltiest of guilty pleasures. I can’t get enough. Sometimes I hear ridiculousness on the news and think, “There’s no way there are people out there that are actually that strange” but then I read some of the absurdity on Craigslist and I say, “Just kidding.”
I’m not ashamed to declare that my hands-down favorite personals section is Missed Connections. In the olden days of 1995, people would write notes on old receipts and stick them on windshields in Home Depot parking lots hoping to foster some romance.
Hey Hottie, lookin’ good in those high-waisted jeans. You are too pretty to be carryin’ that hose all by yourself, how about you give me a call and we discover the secret garden together?
Now, all Rick has to do is post a similar note up on the internet and hope and pray that Hottie is as desperate as he is. THIS IS LOVE IN THE NEW MILLENIUM, PEOPLE.
I used to just mess around on Craigslist for fun with my roommates, reading the creepy messages in appropriately creepy voices and spending ten minutes arguing about who should respond, only deciding in the end that thanks-but-no-thanks we were all too busy for rape that night. Then one fateful afternoon, I was casually reading through and came upon a message that fueled an entirely new obsession:
Dear Waitress, Sorry my friends n I were so loud and obnoctshus last night. LOLZ. We all agreed that u were really cool n hot, especially with those big blue eyes n blonde hair. U looked great in ur short denim shorts. LOLZ. I’d love to hang sometime. Msg me if u see this.
This was about one of my roommates.
I was positive.
I texted her immediately and told her that she had found love in a hopeless place and asked if their first child’s name would be spelled “Hayley” or “Heighleah.” For whatever reason, she was not amused or interested in this character, which is her loss because clearly he’s going places. However, I now knew that Craigslist encounters could be real, and thus Detective Skylar was one the prowl.
Louisville Missed Connections were interesting, but the Northern Virginia ones are where it’s at. NoVA is by no means a small place, but you can go to a Target 40 miles away from where you grew up and still see your soccer coach from when you were eight. Nowhere is safe. Naiveté would lead me to believe that “Strbcks Jenny” couldn’t possibly be the girl in my ninth grade biology class, but optimism reminds me that there’s a chance, and compassion wants her to find and marry the tall black man with beautiful green eyes who ordered a venti, non-fat, no foam, no water, six pump, extra hot chai tea latte.
Could “Costco Hot Blonde Mom” be my next door neighbor? Did I teach dance to the daughters of the “MILFs of South Riding”? Is the guy pining after his ex-wife of 15 years seeking therapy, or is he also the one posting about a discrete NSA lunchtime affair in Casual Encounters? I am riveted.
|"SWM brown hair, fit, loves music"|
I’d [probably] never respond to one of these ads for the sake of curiosity. I like pushing the envelope for my own entertainment, but if it comes down to seeing if Brian from Loudoun is really referring to me when he says he saw a petite brunette at Walgreens who looked like Denise Richards (flattery gets you nowhere, Brian) or having my bones made into wind chimes, I’d rather just sit in my sweatpants and Google new hobbies to take up.
That being said, I really hope “G” finds Teresa from Coastal Flats. He’s posted about her like five times in the past ten days and I really think there's something there.