Alas, my beloved Chris is moving out and we have to find new roommates. Here's one craigslist response that is worth posting:
My name is Lee. I'm interested in the room you posted on craigslist.
I am straight, but queer-friendly. I come with no pets, but don't
mind them. Unless it's a brontosaurus. I don't like brontosauruses
(brontosaureece?). A stegasaurus, I can live with. I think. I may
need some counseling, but I see that one of your is a counselor.
I am now in New Orleans, but am headed towards San Francisco and
hoping to arrive in early February. I understand that this puts me at
a disadvantage, because you can't meet me face-to-face to screen for
cooties or other sorts of weird shit.
I am also only looking for a place for February and for March. After
that I'll be leaving.
Let me explain...
Last year I took a leave of absence from my job in Philadelphia, where
I went to college and then got a job. I've used that time to research
a novel I'm writing in my hometown in Alabama, to work on a graduate
degree in storytelling in Tennessee, and to have my wisdom teeth
removed. My leave ends in mid-April, but I need to spend some time
consolidating all my learning and doing some writing. Plus I'd like
to study hypno-therapy. Since I have friends near San Francisco, and
few blood-sworn enemies, I've decided to head that way. New Orleans
is one stop on my trip west.
While others might view my transience as a bad thing, I think I can
jujitsu it into an advantage. People are really good at hiding all
the crappy things about themselves, and you don't find that stuff out
until you've lived with them for seven months and get an unplanned
education in alternative belief systems regarding personal hygiene and
naked sleep-cooking. I know. I've gotten roommates from craigslist
But with me, even if I had bad features (which I don't, but which you
can't know for sure), you'd only have to deal with it for two months.
Which is really no time at all. You can almost live for two months
without food. And a paying roommate...any paying roommate...certainly
beats starvation. Right?
Also, I can pay upfront.
Since I'll be new to SF, I'll come with no annoying pseudo-roommate
significant other. And while I'm not so hideous as to assume I won't
get any action, the short timeframe probably means that you won't have
to deal with the lebensraum demands of my falling in true, true, true,
true, true, true true-luv.
I'll probably be taking hypnosis classes for much of March. But I
otherwise keep late hours, but am quiet and don't have much scheduled
beyond writing and consolidating my research. I may get involved
somewhat with the local storytelling crowd. Can sleep through
anything. Don't make a mess in the kitchen. Always flush. No food
restrictions. Or allergies. Don't smell funny. Am negotiable about
verb use. I am found to often split infinitives and double-dog dare
you to infinity squared or make stupid bets for $1.
I'll also have a car, though I'll probably park it in Oakland and let
a friend use it for most of the time.
I don't come with any furniture. Just the clothes and things that fit
in my car. And a infra-red, geostabilized brontosaurus-detection
The negative things are this. I'm a Gemini. I don't believe in
astrology much, but that description fits pretty tight. I'm not sure
how to describe it without writing a book or asking you to pay Miss
Cleo $3.99 a minute. But people who really believe in astrology first
pegged me with the label, and it has stuck. I snore. Loudly.
Sometimes I can be heard between rooms. But I don't mind being woken
up and nothing really bothers me. I often work on a typewriter. I
usually practice the fiddle every day (but I do use a practice mute).
I'm not very good. But I am considerate, and try to keep my noise and
habits from disturbing others. You wouldn't mind introducing me to
I have great stories. And know just a little bit about a lot of
things. Perfect for a two-month acquaintance.
I do drink. Whiskey.
I drink a substantial amount of whiskey. But I don't get drunk and
rowdy. No high crimes and misdemeanors. And it usually happens at
bars and other social places.
Yes, I know. I am the cliche-d Southern male whiskey-drinking
storytelling writer. But at least I don't drink tequilla.
I have no problems with other chemical romances. If available and
social, I'll generally take part and contribute funds, but it's not a
big enough part of my life that I travel with or purchase anything
much for my own consumption.
I'm sarcastic. Often.
Above all, assuming that when I die people like me enough to give me a
proper burial, I hope it is carved on my gravestone that "He did not
If you'd like references, I can do that. But the last couple people
I've lived with are exes. Unless you can speak cat.
I'm seriously quite-interested in the room. I've read a bunch of
these ads, and yours is one of the few well-written ones that makes me
think "hey, things could be pretty good living there."
So, what do you think?
ps. I am not interested if you plan on eating me. Just to be clear. Thanks.