http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/mis/53930782.html To the girl I took home last night (and had sex with) I didn't get your name. However, I would love to have my car back. Especially since it's not mine...it's my girlfriends. She's going to be pissed when she gets home from L.A. and I can't pick her up from the airport.
and a relpy -- Hey. It's me ...um, well, I'd give you my name but that wouldn't make a difference now, would it? Listen, I thought perhaps I'd be the one to tell your girl about us. However, when I made the decision to do this (it's the right thing to do, considering all we talked about that night... I mean, really, it just *can't* be a coincidence that the ring you were planning on giving "her" fit *my* finger, now could it? And unless we weren't absolutely meant to be, how could it be that it was a diamond and *sapphire* [my birthstone] ring? Wow... just, wow!) I realized that I'd need something to back me up; she wouldn't just automatically believe a stranger on the street, would she? So I thought "I'll take his car; then she'll know I'm for real. And she'll admire my chutzpah and she'll realize that she is wrong for him - that *I'm* the soon-to-be Mrs. Right - and she'll want only the best for him (me) and she'll give us her full approval. Oooh, and we'll talk and talk and find out we have so much in common and that we wear the same size (except I'm on the smaller side of a size 4, while she could comfortably wear a size 6), and we'll become best friends and she'll ask if she can help plan the wedding. And she'll probably ask if she can be the maid of honor but I'll have to turn her down because I already promised my older sister but she'll be ok with that and I'll tell her that I absolutely expect her to help me pick out my wedding dress, shoes, veil, bridesmaids' dresses - of which she will be one, of course - flowers, setting, music - band or DJ?, invitations, menu - chicken and steak? or fish and steak? or maybe vegetarian? definitely low-carb, etc." (girls *love* that stuff, you see). So, anyway, I planned on picking her up in your car; I'm sorry, I didn't realize that this was *her* car... no wonder it's an automatic and there are Celine Dion and Dido CDs lying around (really, I just thought you were a sensitive guy who kept some of your girlfriend's favorite music in your car and that, by owning an automatic, you'd be able to keep one hand free while driving to hold her hand as she sat in the passenger seat. Boy, was I wrong about you - to think I actually thought you would do something so sweet as to make your car, no, no... make your *life* comfortable and welcoming for someone else. To adjust some things about yourself that need adjusting [and believe me, there are many!] so as to accommodate your loved one. I can't believe you tricked me into thinking you were different... that you thought I was special. How could you? After all I've done, was it all a lie? Huh!? You know what? Never mind. *I'm* not going pick up your girlfriend and tell her about us... I'm not going to let you off the hook. *You* do it, since you're such a sensitive man! You've ruined my life! I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. Just... just go away!) I hope you have a wonderful life, I really do. -M
This is too funny...Dude, you can't leave your wallet and keys laying around after bringing home some skank...c'mon, don't you know the rules...
From Craigslist: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/51489276.html So I pick up and drive the family christmas tree up from the Home Depot (we had a gift certificate) at Serramonte in my 1987 convertable VW Cabriolet. I get home, manhandle the tree out of the car and up the stairs forgetting that I've left my gym bag sitting on the stoop in front of my house. Now this gym bag is a piece of crap with sweaty clothes in it and semi-old basketball sneakers. However, it also contains a nice leather work notebook/portfolio folder with all of my notes and important papers in it for a project on which I've been working for the past 6 months. If that gets lost I am going to go crazier than a ****house rat. I realize what I've done about 1.5 hours later, after putting together a crib for my as yet unborn second child, and walk downstairs. I get to the stoop and see my gym bag, which is now strangely zipped up (I never zip it up) and sitting there. I unzip it and find that some hooligan miscreant has stolen my sneakers and my notebook. This sends me into a not so silent tirade of profanity on my stoop. How do I recreate all of that lost work? What do I tell my boss? I am ****ed. A second later, I look deeper into the bag and realize that the thief has actually taken the time to perfectly and individually rip out every single written page of notes from the notebook and leave it there in the bag, intact. The hugest smile leaps to my face and now I'm actually looking to thank this nefarious angel. SO THANK YOU EVIL YET CONCIENTIOUS ****FACE FOR A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!!
