An Open Letter to You Who Troll Craigslist: For the Ladies
PART II: Hey, Ladies!
In part one of this Open Letter, we outlined the circumstances that may bring a normally lucid, forward-thinking (okay, we’re reaching) human of any sexual persuasion to the seemingly Salmonella typhimurium-drenched buffet table of Craigslist. Craigslist is indeed like a restaurant that narrowly tap-dances its way out of Health Board-mandated shutdown every few months, and only because the inspector really loves those fucking spring rolls.
Today, in part two, we address the women of Craigslist. Avec torque.
Ladies. Women. O, curves-endowed soul-searchers of the night. Uncle. We get it. Seriously. We get it already. You like tall non-smokers with Master’s degrees. Who love dogs, fondue, and cuddling. And you don’t want to see pictures of man-junk. Furthermore, it is said that you hate the drama. Fan-tastic. Got anything else to share? Mystery is alluring, dear reader (citation needed), but vagueness for its own sake is simply not going to win you any points in the great poon-up or post-off. Posts that put forth little more than “I like dogs and yoga LOL”, followed with a challenge for the menfolk (those hapless, witless wretches who will be first-responders to your lovelorn distress call) to be original, be witty, be clever, are doomed to horrible, flaming failure.
And let me tell you, as someone who is regarded both as a genius of love and art (by approximately three people), that it is hard to write good material for a demographic that simply likes cuddling and perhaps the occasional microbrew. Unless the point is to sell Swiffer products. Then we’re totally in business. Otherwise, even Pynchon would have a hard time conjuring up the flimsiest allusion to accompany these Lifetime Movie Network treatments (and he’s not going to send you a picture, either, even if your name is Oedipa). There aren’t even enough keywords in there to fill a quickly shat-out Kate Hudson flick.
Synopsis: Kate Hudson desperately wants to meet a tall non-smoker with a Master’s degree, who loves cuddling and dogs. Specifically, her dog. The last time she posted a personal ad, all she got in response were blurry, poorly-lit pictures of man-junk. When Kate Hudson is not hating on drama, she is practicing yoga. And making her own beer. And then nothing happens for the next 90 minutes. Except for the occasional flying monkey attack of man-junk. And long soliloquies about cuddling.
Blurry, poorly-lit pictures of man-junk, by the way, are the sexual equivalent of velvet paintings of dogs playing poker. Feel free to use that line the next time you receive an unsolicited junk-shot.
And let me be the one to say it: Mssrs. Big, Rochester and D’Arcy (preferably in the visage of James McAvoy) are not trolling Craigslist. They are snorting heroin off the breasts of Emperor’s Club girls. It is not that you should have to settle for less. But if you are seriously looking for anything on Craigslist, then let’s be serious here. You’ll be lucky if he has teeth, a car, and a criminal record shorter in length than his penis.
To put it bluntly, the genetic accomplishment of having lady-parts is not nearly enough to guarantee you the email of your dreams. Boobies are nice (they’re better than nice, actually; they’re downright fabulous), but a few well-placed adjectives will get you further. But. There is at least one adjective to avoid at all costs. Please don’t call yourself “spunky”. Kid detectives, Krispy Kreme coffee, and porn stars are spunky.
You are smart, dear ladies, and you are brave in the face of junk-waving trolls. Most of us know and appreciate this. Now show us how smart you are.
Part three of the Open Letter will be posted next week, where we conduct our long-planned intervention with the men.
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