Nothing Good Happens on Craigslist

Browsing craigslist personals is one of my absolute favorite hobbies.  I usually only browse when I’m in need of a pick me up. Nothing like the sad depravity of the interwebs to remind myself that I am in fact, doing pretty fucking well- all things considered.

I happened upon a post from a married man who was seeking an affair.  He didn’t want it to be only about the sex- he wanted a real connection as well.  He also asserted he was really a sweet guy, but this just had to be done. Fact of life.

*eye roll*

For the first time in two years, I opened up word and began furiously typing out a response to him. I let him know that this was dark, hungry, work and definitely not pretty by any stretch of the imagination. I let him know that I thought he was deluding himself in thinking that this was really something quite sweet. It’s selfish. It’s dark. Don’t sugar coat it. Own it. If you are going to be a jackass, just fucking own it.

He penned back that he thought I was a little off base, but that I intrigued him. O rly? My ego, having been freshly stroked, was ready for more.  I penned back to him explaining that I had some of the same longings. And that I’d gone down the road before, with some pretty fantastic experiences.  It changed my life. Completely.  Had I not had the affair, I would not be the same girl.

He never wrote back.

But he awakened the she-wolf in me. She’d been sleeping for quite some time.  And now she wanted to hunt.  I appeased her and promised we’d keep looking at posts until we found something else that might be suitable.

The good posts never came.  A week went by. Then two. Nothing. Nada. Zip.  I was ready to write the whole thing off.

But then on a whim I decided to look in the platonic sections. And there he was. My unicorn.

He was married, looking for something a little bit more substantial than a one shot, but nothing too crazy. Nothing too deep.  You know, just something fun. To pass the time, I guess. He sounded intelligent. A little nervous.  Like he wasn’t all that good at this sort of thing.

She-wolf, meet prey.  Prey, meet she-wolf.

The hunt was on. I composed my e-mail to him and shot it off.  He responded that same evening- that he was going to bed, but I’d have more in the morning.

And more I did.




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