Tag Archives: Craigslist

Attack of the Internet Trolls!

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Last week I had a kerfuffle with a stranger on the Internet. It was hardly anything worth reporting but it encapsulates a much bigger issue that bugs me enough that I can’t think of anyone better to share with than y’all, my interweb kitten pals.

I was perusing through the job listings on Craigslist as I am wont to do, like 10 times a day. I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING: Why are you looking on Craigslist for jobs, aren’t the only people on that whack site crazy serial killers, like Buffalo Bill from “Silence of the Lambs” plotting to lure you into a dark lair to murder you and make a meat dress from your starved hanging flesh? Probably. Every so often I find a job that I think I would like and yes, I will send a resume and witty cover letter and I will inevitably hear the sound of interweb crickets. I often wonder if my applications are going straight into a SPAM box but then every once in awhile I will get a response. A couple of times even, I had interviews and thought everything went swimmingly well and would be perfect for the job(s) but then never heard from the prospective employers again. I can only assume they called me to check out the size of my ass to see how my hide would fit into their designs. Still crazy that I didn’t get hired because I have enough flesh to last for weeks in a hole in the basement. Trust.

I found a job title that caught my eye: STUDIO MANAGER IN LESLIEVILLE. Pretty generic, so I clicked on the description of requirements which was all check: Must have computer skills blah blah, social media, blogging, Facebook, blah blah, MUST HAVE RELIABLE CAR…$11 an hour, hours from noon til 5, MUST BE AVAILABLE FOR “OVERTIME” WHEN ASKED.

First of all, before we comb through the true crime of this ad, I really hate it when job listing don’t actually list the company’s name because then when you are writing your witty and personalized cover letter, you have nothing to research so you can throw in some inside knowledge. We are only going to have to assume that Buffalo Bill of Craigslist was placing the ad, and his “studio” is where he makes his meat dresses. Except Buffalo Bill is most probably female which I will explain later, so we will now refer to her as “Buffalo Billie” from now on. If you know it’s Buffalo Billie’s human meat dressmaking studio, you can write a little personal nugget: “And I loved your last year’s winter collection of wrap dresses made from the hide of Italian men, so luxurious!”

So I read the ad, even though it’s the kind of job I would want whatever it was, I let it go and kept scrolling on because part-time/minimum wage is not really going to work out long term for moi. Why would Buffalo Billie not just put “Internship” on the listing like everyone else? That way you know they are looking for university graduates desperate enough to work for shite pay, or no pay at all, or a hilarious “stipend” that you carry to the bank at the end of a term that can maybe cover your metropass, a can of Arizona Ice Tea and a lottery ticket at the corner store.

But whatevs, so what? Buffalo Billie can pay whatever she wants, it’s her business. Besides a lot of people have two jobs. They can work for Buffalo Billie in the day from 12 to 5 and then trot over to their servers job at night. BUT! Then I thought, how can you have a second job when Buffalo Billie wants you to work over-time at her whim? I did my maths in my head and calculated that at $11 an hour, which is basically minimum wage, and 5 hours a day, you are making $55 per day, $275 a week, a little over $1100 a month! AND she wants you to own your own car so you can fetch her some twine at Staples to topstitch her latest collection of Chinese Cheongsams made from the flesh of…well, you know. SHE WANTS YOU TO OWN YOUR OWN CAR AND WORK FOR MINIMUM WAGE! IS THIS CRAZY OR WHAT? Unless you won your car on “The Price is Right” and live in your mother’s basement, I fail to see how this is even possible.

Well, I let all that sink in and before I knew it, I had a bee buzzing in my bonnet, and when that happens, my fingers turn to scorpions and I will lay wrath where wrath is due.

You know I am a salty bitch and swear (in writing) like a longshoreman and I am unapologetic about it. The smartest people in the world (Louis CK and my friend Lorraine) will lay an “F” bomb here and there and it sounds highly intellectual. I’m just telling you this now because, I answered Buffalo Billie’s ad like this:

“I am responding to your ad on Craigslist for studio manager. I understand you are offering $11-12 per hour  for a 5 hour work day and require that the candidate “must have a reliable car.”
Are you high? Perhaps you should pull your head out of your asshole and realize the position and wages you are offering for what you offering is disgusting.
People are actually looking for jobs so they can live, not run their cars so they can suck your dick. You should be ashamed.”
I SIGNED MY NAME WITH MY PHONE NUMBER. I am not an anonymous internet troll after all. I know, it’s harsh, but when I get the feeling of righteous indignation, I will act upon it. I will sign your change.org petition about missing girls, I will kick a Sharpei off a Shiba Inu (what? long story but trust, the Sharpei had it coming), and I will go to court on your behalf to fight the douches of the world. This is what makes me awesome, if nothing else. So I wrote that email and pressed the send button and thought nothing of it because it is Craigslist after all and nobody ever answers back.
Well wouldn’t you know it, the one time I write a profanity-laced email is the one time I get a response. I can tell you for absolute sure if I sent Buffalo Billie my resume with a generic cover letter, I would have made the trash pile. But Buffalo Billie responds! And it is woefully and sadly disappointing. Let’s go through it together:
“Hi Kristin,

Thanks for taking the time to respond – I’m sorry you had such an emotional response to my posting and felt that a verbal attack was warranted.
Being a small business owner I wish I could offer more. The benefits that come with this position are pretty stellar but I choose not to make that the focus of the job posting online because I don’t want to attract people similar to yourself. The vehicle costs are also covered, in case you’re wondering.The wages do get increased as time goes on, depending on the level of commitment and dedication and hopefully not long after hiring, the person would become an integral part of a team of fantastic and appreciative people, hopefully with a full salary and a long-term, two-way commitment.”
There’s more but we’ll stop here and do some maths again:
THE BENEFITS ARE STELLAR!!! I have 32 teeth in my mouth, so unless you are paying for all them to get $500 veneers, 80% coverage (one of the better plans) on a  $200 dentist bill twice a year is not going to make minimum wage look like delicious gravy. AND who the fuck under-promises when advertising for a job and expects to attract people unlike myself, who I assume she means ugly internet trolls? Buffalo Billie places an ad for shite pay and crap hours and figures she will attract the cream of the crop of eager minions, like all her other employees who are grateful to work for a such amazing Her Majesty. They are probably all dead, hanging on hooks in her basement, turning into leather, and she probably uses the veneered teeth for her accessory line of earrings and matching necklaces. So appreciative of that kick-ass dental plan.
And then she writes:
“I’m not high, my head is atop my shoulders and not stuffed into any orifice, nor do I have a dick that needs sucking, but thank you for for covering all bases. I won’t be ashamed, but for you.”
She doesn’t have a dick that needs sucking, that’s why she is a she and not a he, because no man would write that sentence, am I right? And yes, I should have wrote “proverbial dick.” Oh my God, some people take things so literally.
The sad part was that she googled me and found my now-defunct career as a real estate agent and said that she would spread the word to everyone NOT to buy a house from me as my “personality is not classy.” Sweet Jesus, what does she think real estate agents do? The good ones fight tooth and nail to make shit happen for their clients. I have seen one of my very favourite agents push and shove another dude off a porch while swearing at the top of his lungs. It was epic and awesome and he has his own brokerage now. SIGH, those really were good times come to think about it.
Anyway, my sadness and disappointment lies in the state of employment in this city. I am afraid it is a place where milquetoast and mediocrity rule the game. And nobody wants to hire a salty old broad who is actually really quite sweet in person. And would make a really chic meat dress.
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Searching For Mr. Tenant

If somebody in Toronto spots this man, tweet me pronto.  Not for me, perv, for my daughter.  I might be in my cougar years but I’m not on the prowl for young prey.  Please.  But daughter is a big fan of his work.  Although we would both love to get a real-life glimpse of the enigmatic (and by enigmatic, I mean: What’s the story, morning-glory? Is he gay or straight?) Robert Pattinson, the sparkly star of that heinous Twilight franchise.  He’s in town RIGHT NOW filming “Cosmopolis.”  He wasn’t at the Pride Parade on Sunday, but then again all those oily young bucks looked alike in blazing sun.  He doesn’t seem to sleep or eat anywhere, so he could possibly really be a vampire.   So yeah, if you spot a Cosmopolis film truck, call me, and we will put our slap on, change our shoes, and Scionate on over to the locale and pretend we are part of the makeup crew.  Hilarity would ensue, it would be like a hybrid episode of Gilmore Girls meets I Love Lucy. It would make our whole summer.

And speaking of slippery young men, last week my tenant gave me notice that he was leaving.  And by “notice,’ I mean a text on July 1;  “Just a head’s up, Kristin, I’m looking for a cheaper place.”  Me:  “You mean September 1?”  He: “Well, like, kind of like August 1, I’ll let you know.”  WHAT DO YOU MEAN “LET ME KNOW?”  You’re leaving or you’re not, and you’re only giving me 30 days notice, JESUS MO-FU!   I didn’t say that to him, instead I remained calm and told him I would have to advertise it right away, blah blah, but inside I was seething with the usual fear-based rage I have become so accustomed in the past year.  As much as I love my tenant, and by “love,”  I mean from afar, from very afar, because he spends most of his time in Woodbridge.  And for me, there is no better tenant than the absent kind.  But he was having problems with rent, so, maybe it was really for the best.

So onto to Craigslist I went.  It’s a scary place, that’s for sure.  Last year I put 8 harp-backed dining room chairs for sale.  Those are those ubiquitous chairs that every East York gramma has but I put the clever spin on it in the ad:  “As seen on Sex and the City.”  It is true, when you own these harp-backed chairs, you can spot them a mile away anywhere.  So I noticed in the episode where Charlotte wants to convert to Judaism and she barges in on the Rabbi’s Seder, she is offered a seat on a harp-back when they say their prayer.  Funnily enough, the person that answered the Craigslist ad, was a woman named Esther, who came to see them one evening with her husband.  They were a young Jewish couple from Bathurst and Lawrence and they drove all the way to the beach late at night   She was wearing a long black wig ass-length wig that made her look like pole dancer in a witness protection program.  She was  painfully thin and covered up in a button down shirt and one of those long, ankle length corduroy skirts that Ralph Lauren still puts out for that particular demographic.   He was all conservative, also,  wearing a yarmulke and suit and was non-stop finger fucking his Blackberry the moment he stepped out of the mini-van.  I took them to see the chairs which were in the empty dining room of the apartment that I hadn’t yet rented out to the current dingle-douche. It was way past my bed-time and one of those sweltering hot Tennessee Williams-style July nights that make sensitive souls such as myself want to ruminate in the dark with a wet washcloth and sweating glass of icy vodka-laced lemonade bed-side.  It took these two wretched characters the better part of an hour for them to fight over whether to buy the chairs or not.

He:  These chairs are UGLY!

She:  I like them, I want them.

He:  You just like them because you want to buy them.  You`ll hate them when you bring them home.  You do this all the time.

She:  No I don’t, I haven’t done any decorating in that apartment!   I really like them.

He: You don`t like them,  you just like buying things.

She:  They’ll fit perfectly with the table.

He:  WHY?  They are UGLY and they are too small!  We have fat relatives! (and he turns to me and says) I’m sorry, lady, but I know my wife and she just likes to buy things even if they are ugly.

Me:  But she likes them…..But you are right, she married you and you are ugly (haha, I don’t actually say that part)

He:  SHE DOESN”T LIKE THEM!  YOU’RE NOT HEARING ME!  I KNOW MY WIFE!

And so it went.  I shut up and just watched this post modern, twisted version of “Fiddler on the Roof” play out until she finally complied right around the time his Blackberry ran out of battery.  Off they went, chairless, into the sultry hot night.  When they got home, they probably had negotiated sex:  “I’ll buy you an ottoman,” he said,  After he planted his seed into her bony loins, he rolled over and said, “If you have a baby, it better be a boy,” as he plugged his Blackberry back in the charger.  Stupid Craigslist, creepy people, dumb chairs.  A week later, the good folks at Frontier Sales ended up taking them off my hands.  “These chairs are a dime a dozen,” Frontierman said, ” But I will give 50 bucks.”  Sweet!  Deal!

That was a year ago.  So when I reluctantly put the apartment up on Craigslist this week, I was delighted with 8 responses in one day, and 6 people came.  It turned out I had my choice!   Everyone was so nice!  There were ladies and couples but I ended up choosing the single, mid- 20s male, once again, to replace the old one.  The house is top-heavy with both fresh, ripe, and spayed estrogen (poor 15-year-old Freddy, even the dog is a girl)  that the virile testosterone of a young buck can be the only remedy to make the house feng shui balanced.  That is my story and I’m sticking to it.