Craigslist Species

After selling several items on Craigslist, I have come to realize that there are 6 categories of people who respond to these ads:

Vanishers – The “vanisher” is identifiable by their initial zeal. They will express a sense of urgency (I really, really want that cat hammock!!!) but once you reply to their response and attempt to clarify a transaction they drop off the grid. The only conclusion is that they located another cat hammock or you are dealing with bi-polar consumerism.

Riddlers – These people generate unnecessary correspondence by asking a large volume of questions (most of which are answered in the ad itself). It escalates to the point that you start to believe the person on the other side is a prison inmate desperately seeking a pen pal rather than a prospective buyer. For instance, if I were to place an ad for a push mower that said, “lightly used, no cosmetic damage, engine is fine just needs a new blade” this person would ask, “Is there anything wrong with the mower?” Often they have an insatiable need to expose your motivation for the sale. They will ask, “Why are you selling the couch anyway?” I am always tempted to respond that the couch was utilized in a recent double homicide and although I thoroughly cleaned it I cannot take a chance on it being subjected to a forensic analysis were the authorities to search my home. Needless to say “Riddlers” rarely transform into buyers.

Bots – Having ruined the lives of all those brave enough to post in the “personals” section, these programs will reply to random ads using a potent combination of vague references, disastrous grammar, and sexual innuendos. Don’t be alarmed when the first response to your used deep freeze looks like this:

            Hello,

                        I noticed your profile on the Internet social website pages and wanted to see if time could be spent ourselves. I am free-spirited and are looking for someone for which to date casually in the nighttime way. You are very attractive and I hope to get acquainted with the desires you possess. There is a link to my profile below.

http://xzyy234#642&.biz/stephanie-malware.html

And trust me on this, no matter how many times you click that link Stephanie is still not going to buy your deep freeze.

Checkers – A checker has an insatiable urge to e-mail people with ads more than 48 hours old and ask, “You still got that back-hair straightener?”  In many ways they are the cruelest of all species of responders because they often renew hope once doubt has crept in. They have no intention of buying it, they are just curious as to how long it takes to move that particular merchandise at that particular price point. I used to think they were Craigslist employees paid to subtlety remind the lister that they need to remove their ad. I now realize that the truth is much more depressing.

Halfers – Irregardless of the item’s condition, cost, or location they will always offer to pay 50% (or less) of what you are asking for it. I don’t mind a little haggling, but show a little respect. I posted the ad on Craigslsit because I have excess goods I would like to unload for some extra money, not because I am supporting a meth habit. If I was willing to take $50 for it, the price would have been followed by the phrase “Or Best Offer.” The absence of those words indicates that I, the seller, took the time to specify an amount because there is an acceptable profit margin for allowing a complete stranger into my home.

No-Shows – The vilest of all creatures, the no-show goes so far as to specify a time to issue payment and take delivery of said goods. By this time you have divulged your phone number and, in some cases, home address because they have not fallen into any of the previous categories. Already imagining what you will do with the proceeds from your corduroy ottoman, you find yourself arranging several hours of your day to sit at home like a chump awaiting the sound of a visitor that will never materialize. Unfailingly, you have put off another buyer because you really had a good feeling that SkittlePimp42@hotmail.com was going to come through for you.

Things I Would Change

The Way I Chew Gum – For whatever reason, it is impossible for me to appear casual while chewing gum. My face transforms into a disconcerting mix of concentration and wonder as if it is the first time I am encountering this strange substance. I appear so uncomfortable that one gets the impression my mental faculties are being unduly taxed by the very effort. Even if I consciously attempt to mimic the nonchalance of say, Al Pacino, it normally just results in the gum falling out of my mouth.

My Posture – When seated, I tend to look like a Weekend at Bernie’s outtake. My lower torso slides forward as my spinal cord transforms into a parenthesis giving the impression of disinterest when people are speaking to me. Any effort to compensate for this invariably involves me earnestly leaning forward which just makes me look like an undernourished gargoyle. Standing is even worse because when I deliberately straighten my back as I walk, my movements become rigid as if I had recently soiled myself do not wish move unnecessarily in order to contain the blast radius.

My Inability to Remember Names – There is a guy that lives in my neighborhood and so help me God you could introduce him to entire graduating class of MIT and he would have no trouble greeting them each by name two years later. Anytime he calls out a greeting I have to purposefully reduce the volume of my voice once I get to his name (which starts with a “T”).  Meanwhile, I am forced to drop ambiguous nicknames on people I have known since birth. Someone will specifically inquire as to the welfare of each blood relative in my lineage and the best I can produce is, “Hey Chief, it was great talking to you and say hi to everyone for me!”   

The Shape of My Head – I have always admired people whose spherical cranium lends itself to a short hairstyle. Unfortunately, my head is not symmetrical and tapers off into a knotted point in the back so severe it could be mistaken for a fossilized crow’s beak. Even the topographically-pleasing areas are festooned by moles and other epidermal anomalies that require the constant care of a dermatologist. If my hairline begins to recede my only option will be a caricature hair piece a la Phil Spector.

Discerning the Appropriate Time to Deploy a Hug – This is particularly troublesome with unrelated members of the opposite sex. I wish to demonstrate genuine affection for people that I care about while not becoming the creepy guy who everyone suspects just wants to feel random girls’ boobs pressed against him while he smells their hair. There is also the danger that my gum will fall into her hair as a result of my poor posture and aforementioned chewing indifference.

My Feet – In addition to being garishly disproportionate to my praying-mantis legs, it appears that my big toe is locked in an epic battle for domination with its second-in-command. As if this wasn’t enough, each and every toenail seems to grow at a different pace. By the time my big toe needs a trim, the pinkie toenail is half an inch long, has calcified, and could easily slice through a gold-toe sock.

The Phantom Hair – I have a translucent hair that randomly sprouts from my right shoulder. One day my shoulder looks perfectly normal and the next day I have an albino arm accessory in very real danger of escaping from a short-sleeved t-shirt. There is no discernible pattern to phantom hair’s emergence but I am currently exploring the assumption that it correlates to the lunar cycle.

Greatest Overheard Conversations (Part 1)

Several years ago, a co-worker and I had the occasion to complete some work for the local fire department. The nature of firefighting lends itself to periods of prolonged downtime punctuated by moments of sheer terror so, like most of us they spend a fair amount of their idle hours watching television.  On this particular occasion two middle-aged firemen were seated in matching recliners as they attempted to locate programming worth their time.

For the sake of efficiency, one was operating the remote while the other scanned the programming guide from the local newspaper. Their banter, in conjunction with the domestic setting, struck us a comical and we found ourselves exchanging glances as they spent the better part of fifteen minutes attempting to decide on a channel. Then, fireman A (wielding the periodical) indicated that their search was over. With a subtle look of triumph he stated, “ManSquito starts in a half-hour on the SciFi channel.”

Taking a moment to process this, his viewing companion’s face became a mask of contemplation as he weighed his options. Then, without a hint of irony, came the response:

“What’s it about?”

It was at this moment I was forced to abandon any pretense of working and I glanced up fully expecting to see a mischievous grin on both their faces. Instead, I witnessed fireman A furiously scanning the paper in search of a plot synopsis while fireman B eagerly awaited the answer before casting his deciding vote. Far from a facetious exchange among peers, I realized that I was witnessing a methodical decision making process and in the balance hung the remainder of a Tuesday afternoon.

The anticipation was killing me, and had fireman A taken a moment longer I would have been unable to prevent myself from screaming, “It is a movie called ManSquito on a network that deals exclusively in science-fiction programming! The title alone serves as a blatant indication that the film details the exploits of a man-insect hybrid and the unexpected consequences of genetic engineering!”

Instead, I heard fireman A clear his throat and utilize a gritty southern monotone as he read the following summary:

“A man and a mosquito are fused in this 2005 SciFi epic.”

Now in possession of this clarifying information, fireman B’s head swayed slightly from side to side as he continued to agonize over whether or not he wished to become emotionally invested in such a motion picture. Mercifully, he ended our suspense by declaring, “That sounds like something” before navigating to the appropriate channel and returning his full attention to a bowl of snack mix.

Unfortunately, I was unable to witness their reaction to ManSquito, but in my mind in plays out like this:

As the credits roll, Fireman B glances down at his depleted snack bowl and laments, “That wasn’t what I thought it was going to be….” To which Fireman A replies, “Don’t beat yourself up man, it could have gone either way.”

Elimination Communication

I recently read an article on the newest parenting trend to sweep America. It is called “elimination communication” and allows newborns and infants to go sans diaper even in public places. The idea is that when the infant is urinating the parent will produce a “ssshhhh” sound and when bowel movements occur the parent will produce grunting noises. After time, the child when associate these noises with waste elimination (and by extension relief) allowing the parent to cue such behavior at an appropriate time by recreating the corresponding sounds.

As you can imagine, the training process is messy and one woman began E.C. training within the first few weeks utilizing only Tupperware containers and her cat-like reflexes.  Several parents in metropolitan areas have admitted to suspending their pants-less offspring over sewer drains or behind parked cars if they are unable to find a public restroom or sink. One practitioner described it as follows:

“Sometimes the thrill of being able to go outside and pee is just what [babies] need. In the suburbs people set up potties in the trunk of their cars. That made me jealous.  But in New York no one cares what you are doing.  You can hold your baby to pee pretty much anywhere.  Especially since few people would have any idea what you are doing.”

Many practitioners credit E.C. as a method of saving money and treating chronic diaper rash. In addition to the cost savings, the transition to potty training is virtually non-existent. Cities like New York even have E.C. meet-ups and classes for parents who wish to incorporate it into their child-rearing and the last seven days of April was the first official “Diaper Free Week.”

I am fully on-board with saving money and preventing chaffing, but it will be cold day in Hell before someone catches me holding my half-naked son over a storm grate as I make audible grunting noises. I cannot help but feel that we might be moving backwards as a society when we encourage sidewalk urination from birth.

I admire and applaud parents for thinking outside the box and being actively involved in all aspects of their child’s development, but if you find yourself hunched behind the bumper of a Dodge Dart outside a Wendy’s trying to force an infant to urinate using only audio cues, you may be too involved. One woman admitted that she compromised and utilized cloth diapers when she was at a restaurant or in the presence of skeptical family members.

Perhaps her family members aren’t so much skeptical as they are averse to watching their nephew/grandson defecate in their Pyrex. Skepticism indicates that they do not believe it will work, I am guessing their real fear is that it will work too well. Just a piece of advice: perhaps some Desitin and a box of Luvs would get you invited to more social gatherings.