A compendium of craft masquerading as art, art masquerading as craft, and craft extending its middle finger.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Pissed on Craigslist


I use Craigslist ALL THE TIME. When I moved recently, I enough lawn tools to start my own landscaping business for $60. When it came time to get rid of the cardboard boxes, we put them up on Craigslist, and they were gone within an hour. How in the world did I not know about Craigslist's "Best of Craigslist" section all this time. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the most primo collection of bile you'll find this side of a gall bladder surgeon. Thrill to the admonishing of vomit-eating pigeons. Learn about the poor fellow whose roommate cleanses his anal beads in the dishwasher. Then there's this guy, giving it to the knitting circle who invaded his coffee shop with both barrels:

Things are about right for a good writing session. I get a few sips of coffee in and then a thirtyish woman approaches and asks if the seat next to me is free. I tell her it is, she places her bag there and I’m well into proceeding to ponder what I’m going to write when I process the fearful words she said next: My knitting circle will be here in a moment. There’s no way in the world she can be serious. The two couches can fit probably four people maximum, four and a half in a squeeze. And now three of them are already occupied. I’m sure I misheard her. But one by one they start arriving: chipper, cheerful, friendly, pleasant knitters. Is this seat free? Do you mind if I squeeze in next to you? Can you fit one more here? How about if I move your bag to make a little more room? I frown into my notebook and refuse to make eye contact with any of them. Meanwhile, out come the click click click knitting needles, long and deadly. Before long the table is a mountain of wool. More knitters arrive, including two men. Brothers, I want to say, have you lost your mind? This is a knitting circle! They seem lost to the cause. And more arrive. Save a seat for Trudy. Can’t we fit one more onto the couch? There, that’s cozy isn’t it? My existentialist comrade quietly exits. There is no peace. I’m completely surrounded -- cluster bombed by the Ball Square Knitting Club.
Once again, America, I salute you. I'm proud to live in a country with a safety valve like this. The next time you need a good shoulder to rant on, spare your intimate friends and associates, and turn to your pal Craig instead. Happy reading/ranting!

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