Help me Craig! Opinions Needed!

Dear Craigslist,

So, there’s the girl I know, like I actually know her in the real world, y’know, not in cyberspace, and I kinda like her and she’s really cute and I think she likes me too cause she talks to me as well. And she’s got big green eyes and tiny teeth and the physique of a Ecuadorian stick-bug, but I wouldn’t say that to her face.

I see her every Tuesday for about an hour –our paths cross, like in a waiting room or on the bus or reporting to the Madame or, y’know, it doesn’t matter how, I ain’t gonna tell you how I know her, that’d be too revealing.

So my hour with the big eyed, tiny-toothed nymph was a bad one yesterday, not because of her, but despite it actually –I can’t imagine how it would’ve been without her, I probably would’ve turned into the hulk and destroyed Mayan temples or something; OR I would’ve put on my spidey-suit and gone out to thwart a madman’s plot to rule the world or create a tax loop for oil tycoons and SUV owners- or…

What was I saying?

Oh yeah, it was a bad day.

Actually, it was a bad hour, but I’m not gonna get into that either. Then we parted ways –I had to go battle the ninja queen and negotiate (yet another!) peace treaty with Kim Il Sung (goddammit, Georgie, don’t blow it again this time! Or I’m just gonna let him shower east Texas with bird flu!), and THEN I had to prevent a nuclear meltdown from burning a hole to the core of the earth because my secret power is impervious to radiation and the WORST PART, when I got home, I found my apples had gone to rot! I was going to make a pie again, and now my apples were rotten! Do you know how many collegiate neighbors I had to seduce and feign enthusiastic sex with just to get those apples? We’re talkin’ DOZENS! Triple Digits! An entire sorority’s worth (though I refuse to stoop so low as sorority girls. Now in saying that, I have this feeling that my inbox will be flooded with irate hate mail from brokenhearted sorority girls. “Why you such a hater? Why won’t you have sex with us? You don’t know how it feels being ostracized and loathed by all the nerds, artists, and drug addicts in the world! We are people too! We have feelings! We cry! Together! Naked! In a train! And we don’t care about our overuse of exclamation marks! Please, small pond guy, don’t perpetuate the societal stigmas unjustly affixed to sorority babes! You’re passionate about justice, and weekly rescue Sudanese refugee children from pillage by governmental henchmen –while weakened by a cold! And you dug out an orphanage from earthquaked rubble in Pakistan, with your bare hands! AND you inoculated lost tribes in the Amazon from small pox and diphtheria! AND you resolved the electoral dispute in Madagascar from the “Association for the Rebirth of Madagascar Party’s” candidate Didier Ratsiraka and his political rival/college roommate/step-uncle-in law Marc Ravalomanana of the “I Love Madagascar” Party! AND you were third in line for four Nobel prizes in five different categories at least TWICE! So don’t you go on picking on sorority girls ANYMORE!

And just cause these please DO INDEED fill inbox, I’ll change my mind. So go ahead and try. If there’s a sorority that needs to be vindicated with artsy nerdy angst-releasing orgy with an unemployed homeless, toothless, poet/physicist, tonight’s your night.

But wait, where was I? My goal here wasn’t to have sorority sex (ok, ok, those of you who actually know me will cry out in objection: it’s true, my continual, yet-fulfilled goal in life is to have sorority sex, and lots of it. But not here, not in this email).

OH YEAH, I REMEMBER: THE CUTE GIRL!

Yeah, we parted ways after out hour –an hour of bliss, looking into each other’s eyes, licking our lips, filling each other with lustful thoughts –or at least filling ME with such thoughts- we would’ve smashed like magnets, obliterating clothing, if we weren’t in the middle of that press conference.

“Tell us, Mr. Senator, is it true you are going to single-handedly indict the president on thirty-eight accounts of really bad illeg- wait, Mr. Senator! What are you doing with your intern! Is this an attempt to follow the Paris Hilton path to talentless celebrity fame, wealth and your own reality show?”

Goddamm tangents.

Ok, I met this girl. I failed at getting her number. She’s sweet and I could read her body language like the palm of my hand. It said, “ask me for my number, I want to talk to you.”

Should I google her?

Ok, I already have.

Should I google her for the email address I found?

I know it’s her, there ain’t too many Poly Wolly-Diggly-All-Day’s living in Enumclaw.

Or should I wait until Tuesday?

Tell me Craig, you’re my only hope.