i'm on craigslist now
I've never posted on craigslist before, but I decided it was time.
Here it is.
I had no intention of killing you - m4w - 24 (D to the N)
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Date: 2004-10-07, 3:55PM EDT
This is my first time posting one of these things. First of all, please let me start by saying that I'm a really normal guy. I've never been, like, a stalker or anything, and I'm a pacifist by nature. I've actually only gotten in one fight ever, and that was in the 9th grade with a guy named Dave over a girl. But that's not the point. The reason I'm writing is because, believe it or not, I had no intention of killing you last night. Oh, I have to do the description thing first, right? Let's get that out of the way.
You: Very attractive hipster girl. Shoulder length red hair that you were wearing up. You were also wearing a green sweater, and a skirt. Oh, and you had on pretty hot boots. I feel weird typing that, because I'm not a shoe person by any means, and I'm definitely not a foot person. Don't get me wrong, I don't think there's anything wrong with being a foot person. In fact, I wish I was into feet. I mean, how exciting would that be? I have feet. If I were into feet, all I would have to do is look down at my feet and pretend that they were somebody else's, and that would probably do it for me. But unfortunately, it does not. I've been trying to get into feet, but it's not working. If I'm on the subway or something, I'll stare at a girl's feet, but the whole time I feel like I'm watching a Clay Aiken video or something. I'm just thinking, "I don't get it. What's the appeal here? Who could possibly like this?" But in the end, I'm going to try to masturbate to it. Like the Clay Aiken video. Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked. You were wearing boots.
Me: White sweater, curly hair. I was wearing glasses, but I usually wear contacts. I was tired, and emotionally drained from the amazing 12 inning Yankees game that I was heading home from. And unfortunately, I was also sober. Had I not been sober, perhaps I would've tried to make drunken small talk. Actually, I wouldn't have. I've never talked to a girl on the subway before because I don't want to be creepy. Which leads me to the title of the post...
Okay, so we both got on the D train at Bleecker at around 12:30. You caught me catching a couple of quick glances your way, which I hope you interpreted as "flattering" rather than "terrifying." When the train stopped at Atlantic Ave in Brooklyn, we both got off. You kind of walked up next to me, so I began thinking about saying something. You know, like "Man, the R train never comes at night" or something amazingly clever and humorous like that. But I didn't. When the R pulled up and we both boarded, I made it a point to sit on the opposite side of the train, just to make sure you wouldn't think I was creepy. But then, coincidentally, we both got off the same stop AGAIN.
Walking towards the exit, I'm sure it didn't help matters that we were the only people in the subway station and I was a few feet behind you. When you turned around to see who was behind you, I'd like to think that you were checking me out, but I know in reality it was because you were scared for your life. I'm pretty sure you even grabbed something in your purse, probably mase. Since I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I picked up my pace and walked past you. Of couse, when we got to the turnstiles my gentleman's instinct took over, and I allowed you to go first. That was probably scary. I thought about saying something like, "Don't worry, I'm a normal guy, I'm not going to kill you," but I decided that that is even creepier than not saying anything at all.
Leaving the station, I ran ahead of you up the stairs and immediately crossed the street, with nary a look back. So see, I had no intention of killing you. I'm a good guy. I've only killed once before, but he was a hobo so it doesn't count. C'mon, we all remember that little rhyme we learned as kids: "Killing a Hobo isn't a No-no." Remember?
But anyway, I hope I didn't accidentally make you uncomfortable last night, and I also hope that you didn't think that I was socially inept and scared of girls. Or gay. I was just scared of making you scared, because I'm a nice guy, that's all. So we should get a drink at The Gate sometime, and I promise that I won't kill you.
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b at 3:38 PM
