Craigslist Missed Connections

After my last breakup, I sold everything that reminded me of my ex on Craigslist and accidentally stumbled upon Craigslist Missed Connections. Talk about love at first site: these people already believe they’ve found “the one.” Yes, these posts are clearly delusional. But, how can I say no to free adoration? Some elusive beauty had already done the hard part of winning them over. So, what was the harm in picking up where they left off? Instant adoration without having to prove that I’m interesting, slipping seamlessly into other person’s love story sounded nice.

At first, I only replied to posts that matched my description, like Brian’s: “Brunette, rainbow t-shirt… You stunk up the bathroom at Petco but stole my heart.” Brian turned out to be an amazing listener! It was free therapy over a delicious four course lobster dinner. I’m not the Tinder Swindler, but that week I was Petco Pooper.

I started getting my rocks off pretending to be someone else. And, after a few weeks of playing with this character, exploring Rainbow T-Shirt Chick with Irritable Bowl Syndrome’s backstory… I realized needed a bigger role, something Oscar worthy. See, I always thought I’d make an excellent actress… not on the big screen or anything but in an indie film. And, as fate would have it, after weeks of scrolling Craigslist Missed Connection, I found the perfect post!

Dale’s description gave me butterflies: “Sexy, blonde, skinny Russian… We met in the bar of the Roosevelt Hotel. You said your name was Svetlana.” Jackpot, the role of a lifetime. I hired an accent coach, died my hair, and lost twenty pounds…. Then, when my transformation was complete three months later, I finally responded to his post.

This was the real deal. Dale understood me (the me I wanted to be and not who I really was) and saw things in me I’d never even seen before: elegance, class. He took me on a helicopter ride over the city, and then to a romantic dinner at the place “we” first met. In the Roosevelt lobby I realized he had a type. Everyone was blonde, Russian, tall, skinny, and coincidentally named Svetlana. But it didn’t matter, I’d nailed the role. He even tipped me $600 for coming to dinner.

I used that money to invest in more elaborate disguises. At this rate I’d be wined and dined every night off Craigslist. But there was a hiccup in my plan: I didn’t factor falling in love. And I fell hard… for Dale. But he would most definitely think my rouse was psychopathic. And I’d gotten so into character that I almost preferred Svetlana’s life as a rebellious Russian princess (which I may or may not have gotten from the Disney movie Anastasia) to being a frumpy college dropout from Jersey. So, I changed my identity, deleted my Facebook, and burned all traces of my real life. Now I can only call my parents once a month from a burner phone.

But who knew I’d find my happy ending on Craigslist Missed Connections?