The Personal Ad

Tuesday, 5:42 PM

The big room of my loft was nearly empty, except for the big bed and a small scarred desk set.  The furniture that had been hers was gone, leaving dust shadows on the hardwood floor.  I hadn’t the heart to clean yet.

How do you work when you can’t concentrate?  Suck in the tears and soldier on that’s how, I thought.  Tears rolled over my lower lids despite my best efforts, landing with miniature splashes on my open laptop.  Five years.  It was my own damn fault, of course.  All my friends had told me how lucky I was, that I should have married her years ago.  Taking the advice of others wasn’t one of my strengths though.

I wiped a hand across the wet keys, leaving a trail of random characters in the letter I was writing.  I gave up on it, and booted the email program instead.  I scanned the list -  fifteen ads for Viagra, like I had any use for that.  Jokes from friends.  A posting alert from Craigslist and two replies.  That’s really weird, I thought, since I hadn’t put anything on Craigslist in months.  I opened the posting notice and read:

Your posting to Craigslist, titled “POSITION AVAILABLE in bachelor’s life,” will go live in about ten minutes.

It looked like someone had hacked into my account.  I booted Craigslist and logged on.  The entry was at the top of the list, and the date stamp showed it was added not more than two hours ago.  I opened it and read:

“POSITION AVAILABLE in bachelor’s life.  27, attractive, athletic.  If you’re interested in sharing some fun with an occasionally bizarre, Ex-Alaskan, reply with bio and photo.”

Bizarre?  Well maybe sometimes, but who wasn’t. Along with the posting, an unfamiliar picture of me smiled back from a happier time.  I could tell it was at least two years old because that was when I had cut my hair short.  The background was closely cropped, making it impossible to tell where it was taken.  Wait – no.  There was something in the lower left corner.  I opened the desk drawer and pulled out a magnifying glass. It looked like the side of a fancy barbecue.  I drummed my fingers on the surface of the desk.  Obviously someone I knew then, a friend maybe.

First things first.  I went into my Craigslist profile page and changed my password. The old password was the same as the one I used at the office, I realized.  Interesting.

I went back to my email and looked at the replies.  I almost deleted them but curiosity got the better of me.  There was no way I’d ever post a personal ad for myself, so this was like a free pass to see what would happen.

The first reply was a bit out of my league.  Or maybe out of my species was a bit closer to the mark.  A picture of an older woman, perhaps in her mid-forties, wearing some black leather thing made mostly of straps gazed longingly up at me from a bed of hay.  Ewwww, I thought.  The reply read:

“If you’re occasionally bizarre, I’m always bizarre.  I like the feel of leather and suede.  You like handcuffs and piercings.  If we time it right we’ll have some fun.  Call me, and bring your own equipment.”

Bring my what?  Okee dokee. 

The front doorbell rang twice, startling me.  My neighbor from the loft next door yelled, “Hey guys, it’s me Sophie.”

I walked to the door and opened it with trepidation.  Sophie was a fashion chameleon, changing her style with such frequency that I never knew what to expect.  Whatever she chose, it was never demure.  Rather it always screamed at you, ‘keep your distance or pay the price for your insolence.’    This time her five foot ten inch frame was encased in a black leather mini-skirt, a black top complete with fashionable rips, and black thigh-high boots.  Her hair was dyed jet black, and her pale make-up was contrasted by black eye shadow. A silver piercing was through her left eyebrow.  I stared at her, my mind temporarily stuck in park.

She smiled at my expression.  “Hi Conner.  I want to thank you guys for looking after my plants while I was gone.  Will you tell Clare that I---“.  Her gaze slipped past me into the room, then back to my face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.  She split huh?”

“Yup, she sure did.  She didn’t even have the nerve to tell me to my face.  I came home from work a week ago to find all her stuff gone.  She left a nice note though.”

“Yeah?  What did it say?”

“Just four words.  You had your chance.”

She shook her head.  “You sure did.  You know that right?”

I nodded with my head down.  She wrapped her arms around me, her tangy perfume making my sinuses clench.  “I know it hurts.  Been there myself a time or two.”  She stiffened.  “Ah, Conner, who is that woman on your computer screen?”

“Ummm---“

“Well, you sure don’t waste any time, do you?  Right back in the saddle, huh?”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Yeah, what is it then?”  She pushed past me into the room and strode across to my desk, her spike heels making popping sounds on the hardwood floor as she walked.

I looked after her and said, “Why don’t you come in, Sophie.  Make yourself at home.”

“Conner, I know you’re feeling low, but I can’t imagine you’d go this low.”  She bent and stared at the image of the woman.  “People like this really exist?  Amazing.  When’s your first date?”

“Not in my lifetime.  Look Sophie, this really isn’t any of your business, is it?  I really don’t need the third degree right now.”

She turned the lone desk chair around and sat down, facing me.  “I’m not going anywhere until I know you aren’t going to do something stupid.  I’m your friend, after all.  What kind of friend would I be if I let you do---that,” she said, tipping her head at my computer screen.

I sighed.  “Fine.”  I backed up and sat on the corner of the bed.  “I don’t know who did it, but someone hacked into my Craigslist account and posted a personal ad on my behalf.”

Her eyebrows went up.  “Really?  Who would do that?”

“I have no idea.  For all I know it was you.”

She huffed.  “As if.”

“OK, so probably not you.  I’m guessing someone from work since I use the same password there.  Or at least I did until I changed it a few minutes ago.  Most of the office knows that I was dumped, and someone there might be trying to cheer me up.”

She looked back at the screen.  “I’m not sure cheering you up is what she has in mind.”

“I’m not sure what she has in mind.  In any case it won’t involve me.”  I walked over to my desk and pressed the delete key.  The email vanished.

Sophie looked at my email list.  “Hmmm, what else do we have here?”  She clicked on the second response, and read it out loud.

“Hey, I’m 21/f honey looking for some fun w/ some older guys. I'm 5-7, 117 pounds, built, 36-24-36. I'm into a foot fetishes, golden showers and whips, please email me back if u want some fun .”

I looked closely at the attached picture.  It was a bit blurry, but she was definitely attractive looking.

Sophie said, “Leave it alone, Conner.  This is playing with fire.”

“Oh? And why’s that?  She looks like an ideal candidate to me.”

Her eyes opened wide.  “Really, you like golden showers?  You know what that is, don’t you?”

“Well, I---“

“She wants to piss on you.  Is that what turns you on these days?”

“Well, no but---“

“Listen up.  You’re a nice guy, but I’m beginning to think you’re a bit naïve.  At least I know what this stuff is.  I tell you what.  I’ll stop by every night for a while and make sure you pick a decent one that won’t get you rolled or tossed in jail.  Deal?”

“But she---“

“Deal?”

I smiled at her.  “Fine.  But if anyone saw how you were dressed while giving me advice about dating, they’d think I was nuts.”

“Perhaps.  Good thing you know better.”  She got up and clopped over to the door. “I’ll be here tomorrow at six.  Be ready.”  With that she pulled the door closed behind her.

“Be ready?  What the hell did she mean by that?”

Wednesday, 6:06 PM

I wasn’t ready.  She stood at my door wearing a one-piece nylon body sock, covered top to bottom in sequins.  She still had the piercing through her eyebrow.  She shimmied and the effect was like a rainbow dancing in waves across her body.  Her hair was piled into a multi-colored hair fountain , and her makeup had a decidedly purple tinge.  I could form no words.

She swiveled her hips and said, “Cat got your tongue?”

I swallowed hard and said, “Yup, that about sums it up.  I assume you’re here in your unprecedented role as protector of my virtue?”

“Indeed I am.”  She stepped past me into the room.  “I see you cleaned up, huh?”

“Yeah, the dust bunnies were beginning to reproduce.”

She laughed.  “Any new emails today?”

“Yeah,  I must be a rare find.  Six new ones today.”

“Let’s have a look then, shall we?”  She took the only chair at the desk, so I leaned against the wall beside her and looked over her dazzling--- over her shoulder.  Just her shoulder.  Eyes straight ahead.

She turned and looked at me.  “You look stiff as a board, Conner.  Are you scared of me or something?”

“Scared?  No.  Intimidated?  Absoposilutely.  You ever look at yourself in the mirror?  You’re not the sort one would bring home to Mommy.”

“Relax lumber-boy.  I don’t bite.  Much.”  She turned back to the computer and opened the first response.  She read silently, her lips moving with each word.  At the end she snorted and said, “My god, that’s unreal.  Way, way too much information, and I’m not sure what she wants to do is even physically possible.  We can safety cross this one off the list.”  She pressed delete and opened the second one.

She read quietly then said, “This one’s a possibility.  Listen to this.”

“What position did you have in mind?  As long as it’s not housekeeper and cook, I’m in for a tryout.  Will you meet me on neutral ground?  How about tonight at eight?  Meet me under the willow tree at McLaren Park.  If we like what we find, we can get coffee.  Reply by seven or don’t bother. You can call me Betty. ”

I examined the picture, which showed a group of friends on a hiking trip.  All wore backpacks and heavy boots, but there was no way to tell which one was Betty.  All looked sweaty and tired, but the group was too far from the camera to get a good look at any of them.

Sophie said, “That’s a pretty safe reply.  No specifics given.  It’s probably not even her real name.  Most people use Betty or Bob when they don’t want to give their real name right off the bat.  The picture says she’s athletic like you, but no specifics.  My guess is she will wait a short distance away from the rendezvous and check you out before making an appearance.  That is, if she makes an appearance at all.  It’s a pretty common tactic.”

“You seem to know a lot about this stuff.”

“I know lots of stuff.”

She opened the next four replies and pronounced them all weird, sick or otherwise unsuitable.  Looking at her watch, she said, “You have twenty minutes before Betty’s deadline. You have my blessing to check her out.  You in?”

I swallowed hard.  Now that push had come to shove my stomach was in knots.  It had been five years since my last first date.

She must have been reading my mind because she said, “What’s the worst that can happen?  You don’t hit it off, and you both leave.  No harm, no foul.”

“Thank you for that insightful analysis, Doctor Phyllis.”

“Ha ha.  Come on, the clock is ticking.  You in?”

I looked back at the hiking picture.  “Sure, fine.  I’m in.”  I reached for the keyboard but she slapped my hand away.  “I’ll handle this.”  She started typing while muttering, “You’d probably give her your life history, and she’d never show.  It’s best to be short and sweet with these things.” 

I leaned over her shoulder and read as she typed, trying in vain to ignore the butterflies in my stomach from her close proximity.  “I’ll be there at eight.  I’ll be wearing jeans and a blue checked shirt.  Bob.”

She hit the send button, and my evening plans were set.

Sophie stood and walked toward the door.  “I’ll be here again tomorrow at six, and I’ll want full details.  Be ready.”

Be ready?  Oh god what next?

Thursday, 6:02 PM

“Spill it.  What happened.”  Sophie stood at my door, hand on hip, wearing a torn grey sweatshirt, tight green shorts and ankle warmers. Her hair was done up in iridescent greenish spikes like the back of a Stegosaurus.  Even her make-up had a greenish tint.  The only recognizable piece of her ensemble was the eyebrow piercing.

“Sophie, hang on a second.  I gotta know where you go dressed up like that.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s an eye-popping outfit, but I don’t know anyone else who dresses like that.”

“Maybe I just do it for your benefit.  In any case, you’re just not ready to know that about me yet.  Now spill it.”

I sighed.  “Why don’t you come in and make yourself at home.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”  She clip-clopped past me in four inch green heels, sat on the edge of the bed and flipped her shoes across the room.  “Damn those shoes hurt.  Cost a damn fortune too.”

I sat at the desk and said, “I have a pair of sneakers you could use.  They even have a built-in aroma.”

“That’s why I like you, Conner.  You’re so considerate.  No more stalling.”

“Fine.  We met, chatted for a few minutes under the willow, then sat on a nearby park bench and talked for another twenty.  Nice girl, not a great beauty, but I liked her.  Then I asked if she wanted to get some coffee.  She looked at me for half a minute before responding, then said that she thought I was a nice guy but didn’t feel any sparks.  She held out her hand and we shook.  Then she left.”

“Ouch.  You okay?”

“Yeah, I suppose.  She was right - no sparks.  Lots of fish in the sea anyway.”

“Ewww, I hate that metaphor.  It makes it sound like there are lots of ideal partners to choose from.  In my experience, you’ll be lucky to find the right one after looking for a long time.  And even if you find the right one, one of you may not be ready for commitment.”

“I guess I can relate.  I loved Clare a lot, but it still wasn’t deep enough for me to want to marry her.  I probably should have figured that out a long time ago.  It would have saved both of us a lot of grief.”

Sophie lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.  “Everyone needs to go through it at least once.  How else will you know when the right one comes along?”

“You sound like you’ve been there.”
“Twice, actually.  The last one took two years to fall apart.”

“And now?”

“Now I hope that I’m better informed about what I’m looking for, and more importantly, who I am.”  She sat back up.  “You get any new emails?”

“Just one.  The ad is getting a bit old, and I won’t be able to re-post it until it’s been up a week.”

She looked at me appraisingly.  “Going to re-post then?”

“Thinking about it.  Might change the wording, take out that bizarre stuff.”

“I think you should keep it.  Otherwise it’d be a really dull ad.”

“You think I’m bizarre?”

“Not by my standards.  I’m just talking about the ad.  Let’s have a look at the new reply.”

She walked across the floor toward me, her bare feet eerily quiet compared to her heels.  I turned, woke my computer, and opened the reply.  She leaned over my shoulder and the scent of her filled my nose.  Not like last time though, much more subtle and intoxicating.  I focused hard on the screen and read aloud.

“We’re all a bit bizarre at times; otherwise life would be way to dull.  I’m 26, have a college degree and a decent job, and my friends think I’m interesting.  I’m looking for a partner, not a dependent.  How about we meet tonight at eight?  Reply and pick the someplace casual.  Betty.”

Sophie said, “Hmm, she sounds altogether too much for you.  She comes across as a strong woman, don’t you think?”

“Either that or she’s been through some tough relationships too.”  I scrolled down to see the picture.  It showed a trim woman in shorts and a tee shirt sitting on a rock wall along the ocean.  The picture was from behind her right side, and I couldn’t see her facial features.  I muttered, “I’ve always been a sucker for ponytails and long elegant necks.”

“Really?  What’s that say about you?”

I turned to her and chuckled.  “I’d rather not examine that aspect of my personality too closely.  Let’s just call it bizarre and move on, shall we.”

“That’s not even close to bizarre.  So what about this Betty.  You in?”

I bit my lip.  “Yeah, I think so.  Can’t be much worse than the last one, right?”

“You never know.  I’ll let you handle your reply this time.  I’ve gotta run.  I’ve got a hot date too.”

I looked her up and down.  “You going like that?  I’m sure the guy will be thrilled.”

“He better be.”  She got up and walked to the door.  In the hallway she turned back at me and winked.  “Good luck Conner.  Something tells me you’re going to need it.”

Thursday, 8:04 PM

I sent the latest ‘Betty’ a reply, saying I’d meet her at Chatsworth Lake next to the old boathouse.  Now as I approached the boathouse butterflies took up residence in my gut.  The sky was darkening fast, and the safety lights of the boat docks came on.  A light breeze drifted in off the lake, bringing with it a slight chill. 

I spotted her sitting in a bench along the beachfront boardwalk, her back to me.  She had the same ponytail as in the picture, so I was fairly sure it was her.  As I got within a few paces of her the breeze picked up her scent, and I stopped dead in my tracks.  No way---

She turned her head and smiled at me.  “Snap out of it, lumber-boy, I’m getting chilly here all by myself.”

I approached in a daze and sat down next to her.  “Sophie?”

Her eyebrow piercing twinkled from the dock lights.  “In the flesh.”

“But you look so---,” I paused, unsure how to continue.

“Normal?”

“No---yes but, well, amazing is the only word that does you justice.  I’m stunned.”

“You’ve known me for what, a year and a half?  And you only realize that now?”

”You’ve never looked like this.  I’d have remembered.  Where’d all the outlandish clothes and makeup go?”

She eyed me for a long moment before answering.  “I learned a long time ago that dressing like this got me way too much attention.  So I learned to hide behind all the weird clothes.”

“But you still have your eyebrow piercing.”

“Yeah, it’s my last line of defense.”

“So, why did you answer the ad?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  Look, I’ve had my eye on you for a long time, Conner.  I never actually thought I’d have a chance though.  Clare was a great lady, and I liked her a lot. I wore the clothes partly to make you keep your distance.  I didn’t want to be the one to break up your relationship.  It’s happened before, and I swore I’d never let it happen again.”

“So then why’d you help me with the ads?”

She tipped her head back and looked into the evening sky.  “It was just a spur of the moment thing at the beginning, but mostly I wanted to spend some time with you to see if we had chemistry.  The risk was pretty low with the ads anyway.”  She shrugged.  “What are the chances that two people connect based on a sentence or two and a vague picture?”

“Sophie, I don’t think I’m ready for this.”  I looked down at my lap.  “Clare just left, and I’m hurting.  It feels like a piece of me is missing.  I need time to find myself again.”

She smiled broadly.  “I know how you feel, and I know you’re not ready.  I just want to be first in line when you get there.”

Epilogue

As I write this, Sophie is sitting across from me reading a book that’s propped on her swollen belly. Someday when you’re old enough, my darling daughter to be, I’ll let you read this little account of how I met your mother.

Author’s Dedication

The inspiration for this story came from a friend, let’s call him Patrick, who had the practical joke described in this story played on him by some co-workers.  He kept quiet about it, all the while dating several women who responded to the ad.  In the end he married one of them, and they happily live in Alaska to this day.  The rest of this story is pure fiction.