Missed Connections

Craigslist has brought us some of the most memorable and shocking content of our time. People have tried to sell a piece of cheese for $100, put out ads for replacement friends, and even given away human-sized hamster wheels for free (it’s a thing, look it up).

But some of the brightest gems of Craigslist are found in the most intriguing section: Missed Connections.

This corner of the internet is the perfect place for you to search for your better weirder half. Have you ever been mesmerized by someone dressed in a sloth costume? Have you been completely smitten with the Taco Bell employee taking your order? Or have you fallen in love with a mugshot on the local news channel?

Some people have. And in pursuit of connection (or something like that), they appealed to the Missed Connections gods. For your reading pleasure, here are some of the best.

  1. I YAM IN LOVE

Okay, I can’t help but wonder how old is the OP? He mentions that the Crazy Lady is in her 50’s or 60’s, so I feel like we need some added context. Age is just a number, and love knows no bounds, yadda, yadda – but we need to know! Is this a gentleman of a similar age, or a young man making a head-tilting plea to the internet?

Knowing Craigslist, it’s probably the latter. I hope he brought enough sugar to the yam candifying party.

  1. MIXED SIGNALS

Man, what a turn we took there! I don’t know what’s better, the fact that the OP still posted the ad after completely changing his mind about finding the person he made out with, or the fact that there is a festival called “Plough and Stars” in Philadelphia.

Don’t worry, OP. We’ve all been there. At least it was ‘pretty solid.’

  1. HOLD YOUR HORSES

Even though this is a short post, there’s a lot to unpack here. OP is kind enough to post on behalf of their friend, which is the sweetest part of this whole mess. But, apparently, seeing a horse in a hotel just wasn’t enough for the friend, they had to take it one step further and find the horse’s owner!

I have even more questions than that, though. Why was the horse in the hotel in the first place? Why was the horse left unattended? Did anyone sneak him in, or did the horse sneak in himself?

Considering that the location is listed as “not sure,” the world may never know.

  1. STEALING YOUR HEART

There are just… so many things. My forehead is sore from face-palming, just from this post alone.

OP, maybe you haven’t been an accessory of a crime before, but did you honestly not expect the routine pat-down? I guarantee it was not a gesture of love, ma’am. And speaking of which, what “romantic” movies are you watching if you thought being roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged into a room was romantic?

You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.

I hope that when you did do go to court, you at least pretended to support your friend while you were eyeing up your Loss Prevention Lover.

  1. EXPRESS YOUR LOVE

This ad is the best, the winner, the ultimate champion. I know that 2009 was a weird time for everyone, but this guy takes the cake.

Honestly, I give mad props to the OP. Even in the most vulnerable position known to humankind, he made smooth moves on his lady love. I’m not sure what I would have said at that moment, but “hey beautiful lady,” definitely wouldn’t have been it. And he does have a point – their relationship just advanced like, a whole year now that she’s seen him pooping. I just hope she likes Indian food too.

If you’re on the hunt for a partner who lives just on this side of stalkerdom, do yourself a favor and peruse the Craigslist missed connections. Your one true love may be searching for you too.

The One With the Red Cover

I don’t know if you belong to any book or movie groups on social media, but they’re an awesome way to connect with like-minded entertainment junkies where you can delve into plot holes, critique subplots involving second string characters, and debate ad nauseum the politics of certain actors, but let me tell you, it’s seriously not as boring as that run-on sentence just made it out to be.

Sometimes, you’re given homework. Again, membership is usually a little more interesting than my descriptors would lead you to believe.  Anyway, fellow members (you know who you are) will routinely offer up puzzles to the rest of the group. Like, what was that movie that had the title with a name of a flower in it… or that book, you know, the one that came out 30 years ago with a red cover and a character named John. The responses to these vague campaigns often run the gamut. Some, like me, take it as a challenge.

Of course, there are always those who respond, why don’t you Google it? I mean, they have a point. Google is right there. Google is your friend. But then again, isn’t that the point of these niche groups? To talk, discuss, and generally obsess over whatever it is the group is patterned after? It’s the perfect place to ask those types of questions, and quite frankly, I’m not sure why the “go ask Google” people are even in those groups if they don’t want to help a fellow bibliophile or cinephile in their pursuit of a dated book or an obscure film.

And what about the people who create these intriguing side quests and then apparently drop off the face of the Earth?

Yeah, does anybody remember a book about a girl named Jane, I read it, oh, about 25 years ago, had something to do with the sea, and something bad happens. Yeah, that’s all I’ve got. Anybody know it?

Then you have fifty people throwing out answers, some of which are pretty damned decent guesses and either those folks have a vast mental library or else they’re fantastic researchers… but, we’ll never know the answer to this riddle, because the original poster never comes back to say, yeah, that was it! Or no, you’re all wrong, are you crazy, of course that wasn’t it!

I mean, at least come back and give the rest of us some closure for god’s sake. I think those people need a course in manners. Hey, I remember that book! By a lady named Miss Manners of all things. Maybe I should recommend it to them.

You know what, though? This lack of rejoinder happens in any online group that has people as members, the one constant being, well, people.

Seen in a backyard gardening group: What’s this plant growing in my garden … I never planted it, it just showed up one day, fully grown. Can I eat it? Will it kill my cat!? What’s the deal?  And someone responds, because they always do, with encyclopedic detail, pictures and all, to let the would-be gardener know not only the name of the plant, but a delicious recipe their grandmother had using that very plant. Others pile on with their own identification and recipes for teas, salves, and oils. But does concerned forager and cat owner ever respond? Nope. We’re just talking to ourselves at that point.

It’s the whole being behind a keyboard rather than face-to-face thing, I think. Even though the internet connects us, there’s still an inherent disconnect.

And we still don’t know what happened with her cat.

4th of July and Beyond

Happy 4th of July to my fellow U.S. peeps! Drink up responsibly and don’t kill enjoy yourself with those homemade fireworks we all know you have stashed in your shed. As for me, I’m going to break open a new bottle of Bailey’s in a last-ditch effort at some much-needed tolerance, or at the least, some semblance of patience — which we all know is not my strong suit, with my noisemaker neighbors.

MY LIFE IN A NUTSHELL

 

*And wear the damn mask!

 

The Art of Time Management

So. My colleague in the office next door just walked in to check on me as they heard me talking to myself, describing in detail the colorful Moroccan inspired curtains I want for my living room. I understand their concern, but seriously, how else will I get targeted ads for the exact ones I’m imagining? I could spend hours googling or searching through online shops… this is just so much quicker. Use your time wisely folks!

Waste Not, Want Not

So, I’ve decided that in an attempt to live healthier, I will eat healthier foods. I know, right!?  Aren’t you proud? I went to the store to stock up and after I got home and was putting things away, I realized that I had made a mistake with my groceries. I just hate it when I mean to get grapes, but instead, I accidentally get, well, you know… Oreos.

Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. I mean, they’re here, so I can’t waste them. My mother taught me better than that.

 

Essentially Annoyed

Turns out, I’m essential… who knew? As an essential worker, driving on the roads for the past few weeks during the shelter-in-place for our state was amazing. Of course now that they’re reopening the state, all hell is breaking loose. But there for a while, there was no traffic; just breeze right on into work and right on home. My gas tank was loving it, that’s for sure. Bonus: it made for a much less ‘road-ragey’ kind of experience.

But the few people that were on the roads with me were determined to undermine my “serenity now” resolve. Even though there was minimal, and I mean minimal, traffic out there, those I shared the road with weren’t exactly good at sharing. Tailgating, dangerously weaving around people to the point of being completely ridiculous, quite like the chase scene from every heist movie ever made. I guess they were taking advantage of the empty roads to live out their Vin Diesel inspired fantasies. The car ones, people. The car ones. I just don’t understand why people are in such a mad dash to get somewhere. And you know damn well they’re rushing off to get somewhere they don’t want to be in the first place. While not rage-fuel, it’s been annoying.

Speaking of being annoyed, sometimes it’s the little things that get me, you know what I mean? I’m one of those people who are very adamant about the express checkout at the grocery store. If you have 12 items or less, all is good. Hell, I can even forgive that 13th item people so often sneak in. I’ve been there myself. But sometimes, you get behind that person who has a month’s worth of grocery shopping in their cart and have the nerve to get into the express lane. In my head, I start counting and when I get up past 30, I start to see pink (yeah, yeah, I know, it’s supposed to be “I start to see red,” but really, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t truly a “sees red” kind of a situation, so I just “see pink”).  You know that the poor cashier, who really just wants to be done with the day (and honestly, who can blame them), won’t or can’t say anything and according to my kids (killjoys that they are), it’s not my place to speak up either, but you best believe I’m giving that lady the old stink eye the whole time.

People not returning their grocery cart is something else entirely. I mean, honestly. The cart return is right there. I know I’ve ranted about this subject before, but still… I have zero remorse for cursing these “non-returners.” And I don’t mean throwing a few sentence enhancers out of my vast repertoire their way. No, I mean cursing, as in “may your errant cart roll backwards over your foot and then ding your car.”  It’s a matter of basic courtesy. You grab a cart, you use said cart, and then you return the cart so that others can use it. It’s stupid easy.

Oh, and quick question, I realize the pedestrian has the right of way. I mean, of course they do. However, is there any point at all when a car is actually moving that the pedestrian should just look at the situation and say, yeah, umm… I think I won’t walk out in front of that moving car all willy-nilly, or behind it, for that matter.

I mean, come on people. Get your shit together.

The Ghostest with the Mostest

I’m pretty sure it’s come up before, but I’m quite the horror movie fanatic. Well nothing too crazy like a having a life-size cutout of Freddie Krueger or Michael Myers (slasher extraordinaire, not the Spy Who Shagged Me) in my living room or a lifelike replica of Pamela Voorhees’ dismembered head on a candlelit coffee table (just let me pause for a moment to say that if anyone is selling one, please be sure to send me a message with a fair price.)

With that said, I am a pretty avid fan, nonetheless. Back in the day, anything and everything was fair game in my cinematic horror world. Films like Razorback (don’t judge me!) were in the same line-up as Ghost Story for my late-night viewing. I like to think that my viewing habits have gotten more consistently sophisticated over time, but I’m not so sure. Nowadays, movies like The Cabin in the Woods (2011) share space with classics such as The Haunting of Hill House (1963) in “my stuff” on streaming media sites.

If I had to pinpoint a genre (or sub-genre, if you like) to be a personal favorite, I would have to say I lean strongly towards haunted house and general ghost-y movies.

Once in a while, Hollywood scores pretty big with a well-done ghost story, but mostly it’s a special effects game. Don’t get me wrong, I love CGI-laden movies as much as anyone, but movies that build from a slow burn make for a more realistic scare in my opinion.

M.R. James is a favorite writer and while some of his stories have been utilized for movie making, there is so much more potential there that’s left untapped.

If I were to recommend a film that is inspired by one of his works, I’d say Number 13 (2006) is a pretty good story. If you’re a fan of the shining, it’s definitely worth a look.

In the age of zombies (World War Z or Night of the Living Dead), creature features (The Descent or A Quiet Place), and others, a good ghost story is hard to come by. There have been a few wonderful adaptations of ghost stories throughout cinema, but the most popular ghost story of the last decade or so would probably go to Paranormal Activity, and that’s such a modernized “fast-food” experience in my opinion.

So, why is there a lack of really good ghost stories?  Is it because Hollywood knows its audience usually has the attention span of a jar of mayonnaise?  Or is it that people just like to see pain and anguish on a physical level because they’re sadistic voyeurs? A friend of mine who is obsessed with horror, thinks that most of Hollywood’s decisions are targeted to two basic types of horror movie audiences.

You have the mainstream movies, like Winchester or The Visit (good movie by the way!), which are intended to appeal to the casual horror movie fan. For instance, “You know what Becky, I haven’t seen a horror movie in a few years, let’s go check out this eerie ghost flick at the theater.” Versus hardcore fans of horror, where it’s all about shock value, over the top gore, sex, violence, etc. For example: “Hey Sven, have you seen Tokyo Gore Police yet? I heard they used over 50 thousand gallons of fake blood making that film, we should go check it out.”

Where are the intelligent, slow building haunted house stories? I know that Hollywood sometimes has difficulty with original material – hence all the remakes, but in this case, there is source material galore. The fact that modern day audiences have likely never read gothic horror is not so much a slight on society as it is, quite simply, teeming with potential for screenwriters.

Lost in the Great Abyss… of Reality

So my internet stopped working on Wednesday. After a fun-filled day of talking with a variety of Verizon representatives, it was still out as of Thursday evening. Supposedly a repair tech will be out today between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and Midnight to fix “my problem.”  Ha!  As if! Until then, my friends, just talk amongst yourselves.

I added this entry from my phone which is a complete and utter PITA, so I’ll touch base with you great folks once my WiFi has learned its lesson and decided to become more cooperative.

Unpaid Talent

I realized recently that I am truly good at so many things… and get paid for absolutely none of them.

For instance, I’m excellent at choosing the wrong line. Oh, some people may be skilled at this particular ability while visiting the grocery store to which I say: amateur!  Me, on the other hand, well, not to toot my own horn, but here lays remarkable talent, I tell you. I’m on top of my game in all sorts of venues — the grocery store, the gas station, the library check-out, the carnival ride, the train, the cab kiosk, even the McDonald’s. Yes, the McDonald’s.

Our McDonald’s has a new double lane drive-thru… and I kid you not, it makes no difference which lane I pull into, something, anything, will cause it to be delayed. The car in front of me may be purchasing 20 of everything off the menu, but not stating their demand in any sort of order whatsoever or with any sense of hurry. Hell, sometimes they have to phone home just to confirm they’ve got it right. “Hey, I’m here at the McDonald’s now. You want onions on that McDouble? No? You sure?  Oh no, no rush, it’s not like people are waiting in line or anything. Take your time. It’s an important decision.”

Or perhaps the person taking the order decided to take a break. They say “I’ll be right with you,” but then they never are; probably they’re distracted by indoor customers or the constant barrage of impossible multi-tasking that’s required in their position. Or maybe they’re new. Or there are technical problems with the computer system and they can’t get the order to come up just right. It makes no difference. The end result is the same. It’s no longer fast food.  I don’t blame the workers, their life is hard enough, and I don’t envy them their jobs. At. All.

It’s me. I’m the line delayer. That’s my job. And I’m good at my job.  Damn good.

 

 

Gone Strolling

It was a lovely day, so I decided to walk around the neighborhood to get some exercise and let the beautiful weather work its magic on my curmudgeonly mood. It didn’t help the mood… after all these years, I’ve come to the conclusion that this is just who I am now, but it was still time well spent.

And yes. That is a cat in a stroller. Sitting on a cat blanket. Don’t judge me.