Craigslist odyssey turns up oddballs

culture@dailylobo.com

The results of searching for temporary housing on Craigslist are an awkward conglomeration of connections, rejection and first-date-style judgments. Plus there are some flat-out weirdos in the mix.

I first put up a Craigslist ad looking for temporary housing in Hartford, Conn., one week ago, because nobody was answering my inquiries into their “beautiful, sunny one-bedroom.” The first reply I received was from 556ad731aad03f11b4e85dd01e2edbcf@reply.craigslist.org, and it simply read: “Are you gay-friendly?”

Questions about sexual orientation are always my favorite type of icebreaker — especially when I’m approaching someone to live with.

Of course I replied that I was very gay friendly and proceeded to talk to Jeff, a 40-year-old man considering renting out his guesthouse.

But after I suggested we talk on the phone, he suddenly stopped emailing me, and it felt like first-date rejection all over again.

Was he wary of the fact that I like “playing music and hiking when I’m not working, which is rare”? Or did I suggest a phone call too soon in our budding relationship? It’s impossible to know, but luckily I received another reply from someone else: zs6r3-3755823174@hous.craigslist.org.

This lady told me she had a great place in West Hartford that was normally $700 per month, but she would lower it to $400 per month if I helped her clean the house and edited things. Edited what, you might ask? Well, that’s still unclear, but after some deduction on my part, it sounded like her letters to the editor weren’t getting published and she wanted me to help. Plus she has an agent and wants to switch jobs and become a nonfiction writer, or something. Her email wasn’t very coherent, and I was reluctant about chasing dust bunnies all summer — it sounded close to indentured servitude. So, following in Jeff’s footsteps, I simply stopped emailing her back.

On Craigslist, the socially acceptable thing to do when you’re no longer interested in something is to simply not reply. This way you maximize damage to that person’s ego, don’t have to type awkward rejection apologies — like “sorry, it’s not you, it’s me” — and make it clear that person has nothing you could ever want in life. All in one fatal swoop.

The last person to email me was 0740b952aade3794b02498c4c8a08c27@reply.craigslist.org. He worked at a local newspaper until he had six strokes, which left him with severe brain damage. But he said he recuperated exceptionally well, and even though now he’s a different person, his friends think it’s for the better.

This man lived in a 7,000 square-foot mansion with a carpenter named Steve, a guy he found on Craigslist who was looking for a place after his wife cheated on him. It sounded like quite the homey and welcoming environment, so of course I replied.

0740b952aade3794b02498c4c8a08c27@reply.craigslist.org is the only person who consistently returned all my emails, so I will most likely be spending the summer with him. But the journey of finding a place using the Interwebs was perilous. If you plan on venturing into the realms of Craiglist anytime soon, all I can say is: “Be prepared for anything. You will get offers for everything under the sun, except for what you’re actually looking for.”