Craig Needs To Have A Word With That One

, , , , , , | Friendly | June 1, 2018

(I’ve been looking to rent a room or find a roommate to rent with, so I’ve posted an ad to Craigslist. Due to getting endless offers from guys who seem to not be able to understand what “female only” means, and feeling like I’m being harassed, I’ve had to get extremely explicit and repetitive in stating I’m absolutely unwilling to live with men in any way, shape, or form, and unwilling to live with any female roommates with boyfriends who ever stay overnight or hang around excessively. It’s not due to religion; I’m atheist. I just have strong comfort preferences for roommates. Let’s face it: boyfriends who sleep over or hang around a lot ARE roommates; they just don’t pay rent or have to clean. I word it politely — for Craigslist — but quite insistently. I quickly get an email from someone whose name indicates she’s female, but it seems not actually for the purpose of offering me a room.)


“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really hate men? You must be some crazy terrorist Muslim [slur] recluse woman! Imagine, hating all men like that! No one will ever want to sleep with you or even be friends with you with that attitude! Loser!

And how dare you even state anything that sounds like you’re trying to tell me what to do in my own house?! It’s my house! And an extremely lovely and expensive house it is! In the best part of Santa Monica! And I’ll do anything I like in it and invite whoever I like! How dare you have the gall to try to tell me what to do in my own home?! If I deign to invite you to live in my house, you are a guest and have no rights to decide anything! You must treat me deferentially! I’ll do whatever I please in my house! You must be as much of a worthless loser as you sound like! Loser!”

My Reply:

“’Guest: [standard dictionary definition, i.e. someone who stays for free.]’ So, [Woman], if you’re willing to be kind enough to allow me to live in your house completely and totally for free, I’d love to take you up on it, and of course I’ll then not ask to make any decisions at all about what goes on there. Otherwise, however, if you would in fact expect me to pay an equal share of the rent, then I’d actually not be considered a guest at all, but a proper house resident with all the rights that you’ve got. And I will very much expect anyone I live with to have just as much regard for my rules and preferences as I’m expected to for theirs.

Of course, [Woman], that certainly won’t be you, as you’ve made clear you’re a giant xenophobe and racist, and I consider myself to be quite lucky to have been so quickly and effectively warned off you, by you, yourself. Good riddance to utter trash. Don’t contact me again.”

(I blocked her email immediately after sending the reply. I always kind of wondered whether she was an utter nutter trolling random folks on Craigslist, or if she actually was a — nutty — Santa Monica homeowner with an expensive house, renting out a room. The latter isn’t out of the question, sadly, but no matter how nice the house and neighborhood, I severely pity anyone she dupes into living there. You’d have to live like a vampire to get any peace from her.)

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Tell It Like It Is: Kids’ Edition

, , , , , | Related | May 31, 2018

(My sister has just had a baby, and also has a twenty-month-old daughter who is quite advanced with her speaking skills. Ever since she started walking, she also started running. No matter what my sister does, she cannot stop her from taking off as soon as they are out in public. After a scary chase through a car park, my sister resorts to using a harness and lead. They are walking along a busy road one day when a woman takes offence.)

Woman: “How disgusting; you are treating that child like a dog. Get that horrible thing off her right now.”

(My sister is not the type of person who would take this; she’s just about to tell the woman to mind her own business when her daughter beats her to it and cuts the woman off mid-sentence.)


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Adventures Of The Lesbian Thespian

, , , , , , | Romantic | May 31, 2018

(It is the 1980s. I’m male with long hair but can’t be considered feminine by any stretch of the imagination. I try out for a part in the school play. I’m hanging out with friends afterwards, discussing various actors and actresses whose methods we like.)

Me: “You know, my parents would be so upset if they knew I wanted to be a thespian.”

(At that point, a young woman nearby jumps up from her table and storms over to where I’m at.)

Woman: “You don’t have to pitch your voice so low if you want to be a lesbian!”

(I blink and look over to where she’s hovering an inch away from me.)

Me: “Lesbian? Well, I do like women, so… but no, we’re talking about thespians. You know, actors and actresses.”

Woman: “It’s okay to be a lesbian. I’m one. Why are you trying to look all manly?”

Me: “Uh, because I am a man.”

Woman: *now screeching* “No, you’re not! Why are you trying to act all butch? Is it because of your friends?”

(She then started screaming at them for trying to get me to act male. I didn’t know what else to do, so I stood up and grabbed my crotch and yelled, “To thine own self be true!” It was then that she realize that I was indeed a man, turned bright red, and stormed off. Every since that day, I’ve been called the lesbian thespian by my friends.)

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The Only Help You Need Is To Get Away

, , , , , | Friendly | May 30, 2018

(I’m walking from the bus stop down a quiet residential street around 11 at night. I’m dressed like an average college student; I’m in a sweater and pants with a backpack, and I have a reusable bag with some shopping on my shoulder. The particular street section I’m on has no sidewalks, so I’m walking at the edge of the road by the parked cars. The street is completely deserted, but suddenly a truck shows up from somewhere, stops by me, and starts crawling along.)

Male Driver: *shouting at me* “Do you need help?”

(I’m weirded out and don’t answer, just keep walking.)

Male Driver: *shouting* “Do you need help?”

(I don’t answer.)

Male Driver: *shouting insistently* “Hey! Hey! Do you need help?”

(The truck is following along with me. I glance over; it’s a white, middle-aged guy, and maybe my eyes were just playing tricks on me in the dark but I’d swear he is wearing a cowboy hat. Any way you slice it, I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, he keeps on shouting, “Do you need help?” on endless repeat. I scuttle away from him, off the road toward the lawn of one of the houses, while giving him a very obvious freaked-out look in order to send a clear message: I’m not going to come anywhere near your truck in a million years, dude, and if you try anything, I’m going to run and start knocking on doors here for help. He finally gets the message and drives off. A couple of days later, I’m walking on that street again at the same time, in similar clothes and with my shopping bag, and when I get to the same exact part of the street, which is again deserted, a four-door car comes by and stops near me.)

Female Driver: *shouting at me* “Do you need help?”

(I glance sideways surreptitiously. This time, it’s a 35- to 45-year-old white woman, possibly with someone sitting in her passenger seat, but I can’t see clearly enough to be sure. I ignore her and walk on.)

Female Driver: *shouting* “Do you need help?”

(I don’t respond.)

Female Driver: *shouting* “Do you need help?”

(Boy, is she persistent. I walk past her car while making a decent pretence of being distracted by my phone. I also have earbuds in.)

Female Driver: *leaning out her car window and calling after me* “Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help? Do you need help?” *all while sounding inexplicably more and more entreating and outright desperate*

(I kid you not, I thought she’d fall out that window with how she was stretching toward me, and she didn’t stop calling after me until I finally walked out of sight. In the moment, the best way I could think of dealing with the weirdness was just acting like I didn’t see or hear her at all. Anyway, I don’t really think it was that safe to come up to talk to her on a deserted street just because she’s a woman. I’ve been wondering on and off if the man and woman were married or siblings or the like; it was way too much of a coincidence for two people to act identically within a couple of days of each other, on the exact same stretch of the street. For the record, I live a five minute walk from there. It’s MY neighborhood, just as much as theirs — if they even lived there themselves and weren’t just super-weird visitors. The only “help” I ever need while walking in my own neighbourhood, regardless of time of day or night, is figuring out a good way of getting rid of these sorts of creepy busybodies, without putting myself in danger by talking to them. Please don’t ever do things like this to someone just because they’re walking on some street alone at night; all this accomplishes is freaking us out and really annoying us.)

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Harry Potter And The Chamber Of The Kessel Run

, , , , , | Friendly | May 28, 2018

(I’m a bit of a geek and regularly wear a necklace that is a leaf of Lorien from “Lord of the Rings.” A couple friends and I have stopped in at a sandwich shop for dinner.)

Girl: *rings up my order and notices my necklace* “Oh! That’s really pretty! What’s it mean?”

Me: *glances down to confirm* “Oh, that’s a leaf of Lorien from Lord of the Rings.”

Girl: “Oh, like Harry Potter?”

Me: “No… It’s the Lord of the Rings. You know, the movies?”

Girl: “So, like Star Wars?”

Me: “No, Lord of the Rings. Movies and books? Elves, dwarves, hobbits? A ring? Tolkien? The Hobbit is part of the series, too.”

Girl: “Oh, I watch TV!” *hands me my change*

Me: *blinks and walks away*

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