Tag Archives: loneliness

Marked As Spam

Subject: Re: bed for sale
From: vitospazini@yahoo.com
To: anon-66068529@craigslist.org
Date: Tuesday, October 12, 2005 10:02am

hello, i saw your ad on craigs list and i am interested in your bed. i have a few conditions:

1 the bed must not be lumpy as i refuse to waste eight hours of my day sleeping on a lumpy mattress, that would be just stupid.
2 the bottom of it should not be ripped and unattractive because i do NOT like it when things are ripped and out of place and i dont need that in my house.
3 the frame should really be black and not dark brown, a lot of people say black when they mean dark brown and it pisses me off because when i want a black bed i want it black.
4 it must actually be nice, i hate it when people use words and dont mean what they say, itd be ok if the bed was not so nice but if you say it is then i really want it to be nice. im not saying you are a liar or anything, ive just been burned before and its really really frustrating.

if all of these conditions are met, i will give you your $50. if only three of them are, i will give you $35. any less and i am not interested. please call me vito and not mr. spazini. thank you.

***
Subject: one change
From: vitospazini@yahoo.com
To: anon-66068529@craigslist.org
Date: Tuesday, October 12, 2005 11:16pm

upon further consideration and reviewing your ad one more time, i would be willing to give you $18 if two conditions are met. but not the ripped bottom. i cannot stand that. this is vito.

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Subject: sorry
From: vitospazini@yahoo.com
To: anon-66068529@craigslist.org
Date: Tuesday, October 12, 2005 2:18pm

hey what’s up, this is vito again. i wrote you earlier about the bed and i sort of went off the handle i guess. i just wanted to apologize, there was no need for that. im sure your bed is very nice and you arent a liar or anything. its just been a rough week and well i guess you can tell im not in the best place. im sure you arent that interested in selling me your bed now cuz i sound crazy. but, anyway, sorry for all that.

ps: my sliding price scale is still in effect.

***
Subject: thanks
From: vitospazini@yahoo.com
To: anon-66068529@craigslist.org
Date: Tuesday, October 12, 2005 9:12pm

hi. it’s vito. i just wanted to thank you. i know that you could have like reported me or whatever, but it means a lot to me you didnt. im sure you already sold the bed and that it was great for whoever got it, and you werent lying about it at all. i appreciate that honesty. i dont see it often. anyway, i know i apologized, but i havent slept well. i guess that won’t change. you can keep not writing back. i know you are supportive anyway. it’s nice to get that sometimes. good luck with your new bed.

Dr. Feelgood, meet Dr. Strangelove

I asked him how he felt about Motley Crüe and he asked me what that was. I bit my bottom lip to keep mouth shut because I didn’t want to say something mean and ruin the interview — nothing kills the mood like a missed metal joke. Wait, that was a lie; Crüe kills the mood much more violently (unless you’re Pam and it’s 1995, but I’m not and it’s not).

I took a few moments to collect my thoughts; he took the silence as an invitation, and told me that I smell like an arboretum, which I suppose was flattering, but still. Is there a more un-sexy word than ‘arboretum?’ Even ‘syphilis’ is sexier; it’s smooth, and sibilant. I said “Thank you,” as he twirled my hair around his finger and looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. Except you know those little tiny dogs that hump everything they see? It was those kind of puppy dog eyes. I reminded him that this was strictly professional.

“Of course,” he said. His eyes narrowed as his brows raised.

“Um, so, what else do you have in your uh, medical bag there?” I asked, hoping he would stop touching me. He didn’t.

“Do you want to see?”

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of the point, right?”

A moment of hesitation. “Right,” he said, and got off the bed to grab his bag. It even had a red medic sign on the side. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so afraid that his cologne might suffocate me.

“Lie back,” he said. “Trust me.” So I did, and he tied a blindfold around my eyes and bound my wrists to the bedpost. But I wasn’t nervous. “You know, it’s difficult for me to…truly demonstrate what I can do if you won’t remove your clothes.” I got nervous.

“That’s alright. I just need an example to get the idea of it. So I can write about it later.”

“As you…desire,” he said, and by the sound of it, went back to his bag of tricks.

” So women let you do this? Find a stranger on the Craig’s List, and let him tie them up and blindfold them? Really?” He pressed something cold, hard, and smooth against my arms. As much as I hate to admit it, I felt kind of nice, like metallic fingers tracing lines along my skin.

“There’s nothing strange in what I do,” he said, with a lonely trail of reverb in his throat. “I offer them pleasure. Release. An escape from stress. And I ask nothing in return.”

Nothing at all? I pondered this for a moment, but my thoughts were interrupted by the realization that he was using a spoon to turn me on, and that it was actually kind of working. I asked him, with a distinct tone of urgency, to take the blindfold and the handcuffs off. And he did. He wasn’t offended at all; in fact, he was remarkably sweet about the whole thing.

We ended up lying in bed, just talking for a while, about his loneliness, and his search for true intimacy, and how this hasn’t worked but he keeps trying anyway. I couldn’t decide if he was noble, pathetic, or just plain sad. And then I couldn’t tell the difference between them anymore, so I fucked him. What else was I supposed to do?