So about three years ago I bought this couch: Big. Red. Room-dominating. Expensive as hell. (What can I say? I was going through a phase about shedding my infernal cheapness. And fuckery. So you see.)

Anyway, it was/is a magnificent couch in its way, but it had no business being in my smallish, mid-century apartment. And as my lifestyle changed—acting replaced by design and its attendant computer sprawl, random fuckery replaced by The BF—it actually became sort of a nuisance as well as an anachronism.

After an unsuccessful attempt to dump the behemoth on my sister’s boyfriend (not literally—he’s nice!), I turned to the master of fuckery—er, craigslist—The BF.

In the two years I’ve known him, The BF has successfully converted a staggering array of used, half-used and unused items to cold, hard cash via eBay and craigslist. Within ten days, he had moved The Behemoth to his place (no mean feat, given the crazy number of stairs involved), put it on wheels (don’t ask), and sold it for cash money (from the buyer) and a Taylor’s steak dinner (from me).

Part of The BF’s high success rate with selling is patience. Selling used goods, like undertaking large-scale home improvement projects or raising children, requires a tolerance for tedium I lack in spades. Not only is The BF not afraid of tearing down an interior wall or making babies or selling used crap, he does it all with panache. Such photos! Such an exquisite sense for pricing! And mainly, such a gift with item descriptions.

Here, for example, is his most recent listing:

Ugly Rug Cheap! 5×8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

That’s right, you can have this incredibly ugly rug for only twenty bucks! It’s all wool, I don’t even want to think about how much we paid for it originally, but it can be yours for only $20 if you call before I take it down to Goodwill or Out of the Closet.

It’s 5×8, check out the picture of the label, it really is a pottery barn carpet and was decent at one time. It does have some stains which may or may not come out - I don’t want to find out. Personally, I’ve never liked this rug but my wife thought it was OK for the back room, but that’s another story. Now we have another rug and you can have this one for your project room, or garage, or whatever.

From my own experience, I know what a treasure trove of fascinating characters craigslist can be. (I found mine via the fuckery pages, but whatever.) And you don’t have to go to Rants & Raves or Best Of to find them: they’ll come to you, if you say the magic words. Which The BF knows by heart, it would seem. Hence, the following exchange, reprinted exactly as it transpired (email addresses and CL legalese redacted):

From: xxxxxxx@aol.com
To: sale-243280408@craigslist.org
Sent: Sun, 3 Dec 2006 7:03 PM
Subject: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5×8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

you are funny

***

On Dec 3, 2006, at 7:09 PM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

too bad I can’t make a living at it.

***

—–Original Message—–
From: xxxxxxx@aol.com
To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com
Sent: Sun, 3 Dec 2006 7:17 PM
Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5×8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

have you tried organizing it in that way and going for it?

***

On Dec 3, 2006, at 10:00 PM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

are you my subconscious? why are you e-mailing me instead of appearing as the virgin mary like you usually do?

***

—–Original Message—–
From: xxxxxxx@aol.com
To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com
Sent: Sun, 3 Dec:51 PM
Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5×8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

I am a virtual virgin reaching to you at Christmas
I am the ghost of christmas 40 years from now
when you didn’t go for your dreams
BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WAS TOO LATE
OR SOME OTHER FRIGGING EXCUSE
BECAUSE YOU ARE SCARED

ME TOO—

***

On Dec 4, 2006, at 12:44 AM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

so I guess this means you don’t want my rug?

***

—–Original Message—–
From: xxxxxxx@aol.com
To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com
Sent: Mon, 4 Dec 2006 8:24 AM
Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5×8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

never did
was taken in by the truthful/meaness of the word ‘ugly’
had to read it

***

On Dec 4, 2006, at 9:43 AM, THE_BF@xxxxxx.com wrote:

Thanks for writing! I’m not being sarcastic. At least I don’t think I’m being sarcastic. It’s hard to tell.

You are right, of course - it’s very common to not do something out of fear, and easy to make excuses. At the end of the day, however, the only regrets I have are those of omission, not commission. I’ve never said “gee, i wish I hadn’t done that” but I’ve often said “gee, I wish I had done this when I had the chance”.

You’re sure you don’t want the rug?

***

—–Original Message—–
From: xxxxxxx@aol.com
To: THE_BF@xxxxxx.com
Sent: Mon, 4 Dec 2006 9:52 AM
Subject: Re: Ugly Rug Cheap! 5×8 Pottery Barn Rug All wool - $20

give the rug to a poor person- some woman out of a shelter with kids who’s living with blankets on the floor- someone who can’t even afford to buy something at goodwill
at the end of the day i do say “I wish I hadn’t done that” so lucky for you
I have made some supremely bad choices that i now pay for dearly-
the humor I see in your paragraph was the kind that the writers on Everybody Loves Raymond’ used over and over again- after all- the whole show was a one trick pony- the stupid no nothing husband and the brilliant wife-
alot of humor is that- your one observation about the rug and the room and the wife were enough for a two part sitcom
you know that
it’s the work
either you do it or you don’t
either you want it or you don’t
nobody who makes it is weak

When I think of leaving L.A. these days, it’s only for a place that has a reasonably active craigslist. I mean, where else can you sell your shit, have a philosophical discussion and be insulted all in the same email exchange?

xxx
c

P.S. The rug is still for sale.

TOPICS: communicating, craigslist, The BF.

I’m not prone to giving advice—wait…yes, I am. Well, not unsolicited advice—shit, I do that, too.

Sigh…

Okay: I love giving advice. I’ve been addicted to advice columns since I found Dear Abby on the funnies page (her hipper twin, Ann Landers, was in the Sun-Times and we were a Trib household all the way).

I especially enjoy advice on matters of the heart since I find love fascinating, although as regular readersknow, I spout off on pretty much anything within arm’s reach. I loved Em & Lo, the erstwhile Nerve gals who write so well about sex, and subscribed to Salon.com not so I could keep up with their excellent news coverage but because I got tired of reading the Daily Pass ad to get to my Cary Tennis.

Ironically, though, ever since I actually have had some clue about How These Things Work, I have questioned my right to be an authority on (insert topic here). I’m definitely one of those women who suffers from Imposter Syndrome, as Jory Des Jardins describes it:

(Imposter Syndrome) is a fairly common condition that affects many women, particularly those who are achievement-oriented. It’s a belief that one’s accomplishments are not deserved, that one has somehow fooled the system and will inevitably be found out for the fake that she is.

As a well under-30 pup selling ads to clients twice my age, I remember having frequent “When Will They Find Out We Are Frauds” discussions with my then-boss back in the go-go ’80s.

But, as usual, I digress.

I think that my youthful zeal for offering advice had more to do with my needing to be seen and valued than with any selfless desire to share the wealth. These days, I find it easier to resist offering unsolicited advice one-on-one. I figure if someone wants my goddam opinion, they can goddam well ask for it; if, on the other hand, they’re just jaw-flapping, as my ex-husband used to say, and I have an excuse to walk away and not waste my valuable time and energy.

As an avid reader of Craig’s List, however, I find my advice-giving buttons pushed pretty frequently, and the lure is strong. Fortunately, they make you jump through so many hoops to reply to a post that my ardor cools in advance at the prospect. In fact, I’m always shocked at how many people will jump on a lame thread in the Rants & Raves section; they must have really, really boring jobs.

But every once in a while, a post cries out to me. The poster seems to genuinely want an answer to a problem that speaks to my experience, and I have an extra ten or so minutes to devote to the issue. I consider it another way of giving back; lord knows enough people have helped me through the dark and murky times.

I won’t repost this guy’s entire plea for help since I don’t have his permission, but suffice it to say he was experiencing some bewilderment on the dating front and, having given up entirely on meeting people in real-life venues like bars, he had now come to the conclusion that even the people looking online weren’t really looking for a relationship. Worse, I could sense he was on the precipice overhanging The Dark Place; one stiff wind and we might lose him to the other side.

Here’s what I had to say:

You know what? You’re absolutely right…and you’re absolutely wrong.

I’m a fairly cool chick (or so I’ve been told by some fairly cool people who didn’t stand to gain anything by saying it) and I’ve met some pretty great guys online. And in bars. And through friends. And even, one unusual time, standing in front of a burning bus.

I’ve also met some equally heinous guys in each of those places. (Well, I only met the one guy in front of the burning bus.)

Point being, there are asshat chicks *and* cool chicks *everywhere*. If you’re really looking for a cool one, why close off any reasonable avenue? Two caveats, though. First, in my experience, you do better if you’re open but not Looking. Cool chicks can get a little turned off by guys too much on the prowl. (And nobody likes a needy person.)

And second, if you are burning out on any part of the process or developing any kind of an attitude about a particular avenue, stay away from it until you can jump back in with a better attitude. Don’t date angry!

Now, I know Em & Lo would have been way funnier, and that Cary would have done a much more thoughtful job of dissecting the guy’s modus operandi and even analyzing his intent. But sometimes, the best “advice” you can give is a little reassurance that this, too, shall pass, and that maybe it’s a good idea to cool one’s heels until one can approach the “problem” with an open mind and a fresh perspective. Especially when you don’t really know the person asking the question. And as someone with extensive experience in online dating who had experienced burnout and the falling rate of return that accompanies it, I felt uniquely qualified—nay, compelled—to speak up. So I’m pretty sure I wasn’t talking out of my ass.

Hopefully, I wasn’t just flapping my jaw, either.

xxx
c

TOPICS: advice, craigslist, online dating.