Again I've been a little lacking in my posting, but it's been largely been because I've been hard at work to bring you this story. Yes a story of a craigslist casual encounter. It was by no means easy, by no means traditional, and there much much more story than sex. But the story is memorable, to say the least.
As you may recall, I posted a craigslist CE post under the title "If I'm Half as Good in Bed as I am at Long Winded Rants." It debut with little acclaim, aside from a few people trying to peddle internet porn who wrote me. But after a bit I received a bite from someone who seemed to be real, who wrote:
Your ad caught my eye. Was it because I like being spanked, bondage, oral sex, healthy sexual appetites, big dicks, tall men, or all of the above?
Extraordinarily promising, but it was not to be, as she never wrote back after my response. My theory is that she googled me and decided that she could do without the publicity of having her sex blogged. But some day 500 years into the future I'm pretty sure my uncovered blog will be the part of a graduate thesis paper with the title: "Mating habits of the early 21st Century American Internet User" and it will be Molly's loss to not be a part of it.
A week later though, a new someone named Katie dropped me off an email. And though I'd love to share with you the entirety of our email correspondence (and maybe will pick out some highlights for a future post) the total when I now copy and paste into Word consists of 20 emails, 40 pages, 17,438 words and 97,018 characters. So yeah, Katie and I have talked. Which is why I haven't been doing as much blogging. I know, it's a bit selfish of me to expend so much energy on one person when my writing was just starting to get a fan base, but this was an opportunity not to pass up... a documented successful story of a craigslist casual encounter. Oh yeah, and sex. Sex is cool.
I fought hard to gain Katie's trust as she was pretty sure I was going to turn her into a CSI or a made for TV movie where our innocent heroine succumbs to the vile temptations of Internet boys. Eventually we made plans to meet at her favorite bar on a Saturday night, with the caveat that either of us could nix the entire shebang at any time.
Sadly, the gods conspired against me, and like some horrendous teen coming of age movie, I was comically thwarted before I even had a chance to make my case. On the way out the door for our meeting, the house phone rang. A very uncharacteristic thing for the phone to do, as I'm not horribly popular (must be all the hours spent writing rambling blogs). It was a friend I'd been promising to not blow off, but had been blowing off anyway, who now was having some sort of sobby Valentine's season crisis with a lousy husband. I did what I could to console and make it out of there, but I was definitely running late. A mile drive later I realize I have no idea where I'm going and have left the directions and the name of the place in the printer. All right, turn around, get the directions, let's try this again.
I finally arrive at the bar, only about 10 minutes late and only mildly panicking that she's going to give up and flee--or hook up with some other guy. But before I could so much as get parked, I realized I had absolutely no cash on me, and the guy collecting for parking wasn't giving any breaks. Stupid, stupid! So I had to find an ATM. For those of you familiar with Columbus's Arena District, please explain to me why there are no gas stations and no ATM's anywhere within a mile of the whole area. I mean, hundreds of thousands must be spent there every week, and not a single bank? A disorienting drive around part of the short north and I finally found a bank... My branch even. And yes, I was a little excited at the prospect of saving $4 in ATM fees even as the opportunity for sex was slipping away. Of course there was no ATM. Son-of-a... Drive around Columbus a bit more, find a gas station, get the cash, drive back to park in the arena district, half trot over to our meeting place. It's 11:25, much less forgivably late, especially to make someone wait who thinks you're going to stand them up, kill them, or be a 40 year old pervert.
I get inside, and it's packed. Okay, I've seen one picture of Katie, and I know the vital stats, but I have no idea how I'm going to find her. So I do the only things I can think to do... pace up and down the bar trying to make eye contact with random women, hoping that at some point there'll be some mutual recognition and I'll be able to shmooze my way into a forgiveness. So I fight my way from one end of the bar to the other, blatantly making eye contact with almost every girl I pass. I'm pretty sure by my third trip back and forth I was probably less popular than I've ever been--and that's saying something. So I eventually gave up actively looking, grabbed a beer, and tried to enjoy the styling of the jam band on stage and the atmosphere of a pretty fun bar.
Alas, time passed, as did a few more beers, and it looked like the casual encounter was not to be. And though I had a few laughs and a few dances and a general good time, I was a touched bummed. The fear that it was my fault was verified when I got home around 3 am to find the most concise of Katie's emails to date:
To: dante.hunter@gmail.com
Date: Feb 11, 2006 11:32 PM
Subject: Re: craigslist ad
wow. you sure fooled me. i actually showed up. whatever."Ah, fuck me," I thought. Rather than crash I jotted out a last ditch apology explanation at 3:10 AM, hit the pillow and went to sleep. Today, everything is worked out. Which is to say it's also strange, improbable, funny, and a long story. Unfortunately it's late and this is already wordy, so I'm going to save it for another time. I promise though, the next message will contain some scenes of sex. Hey, if you think the suspense is killing you, try 20 emails over 13 days.
1 comment:
You seem like an intelligent person but what you did was incredibly dumb. Why didn't you call her on the cell to explain your running late? I ALWAYS get cell phone numbers just in case there's a female version of you out there.....
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