Dethklan — Now, Then and FOREVER!

Some pictures of some of the girls who contacted me from “Casual Encounters” (i.e. sex posts), or otherwise wanted to play with my dick.

It’s a normal night- I’m doing my usual thing and sitting around doing nothing. I then recieve an e-mail.

It sounds like we have a lot in common. To name a few, I have a personal trainer for weight training, do cardio almost every day, and play volleyball. I eat so healthily it’s ridiculous. I used to be a nerd in high school- even down to programming my graphing calculators- haha! Then I became better adjusted in college and after. I am 24, don’t know if that’s too much of an age difference for you, but you sound very interesting!

~(Redacted).

Strange vibes. First off, I feel offended that being a “nerd” is programming your graphing calculators (until you make your own Linux distro, don’t be “nerdy”). Further, the sheer fact the girl is 24 bothers me- since when have I become such hot property to twentysomethings? Since when does a theoretically fit as hell hottie want to bone me?

Oh right, it’s when those twentysomethings start lying.

So, this is the first legit (i.e. non-”Wanna fuck my girlfriend”) e-mail I’ve gotten in a while, so I respond.

(Redacted),

I don’t mind the age difference if you don’t- not a big deal to me*.

That being said, I think we’d get along very well- do you have AIM or anything like that**? I’d love to talk to you and get to know you more, I’m sure we’d find a lot to talk about***.

Hope to hear from you soon,
Kirk

*-TRANSLATION: I still have a MILF fetish

**- I don’t believe your shit and want to ask you direct questions.

***- This is a lie. Even the most interesting girls require me to give them fucking essay prompts to talk.

She responds a day later.

I haven’t used AIM in a long time. You can call if you want though- (—)000-0000.

~(Redacted)

This freaks me out quickly. I never call people, especially random fucking cell phone numbers.

(Redacted),
I’d prefer not calling you immediately- for one thing, I keep getting calls from my employers*, so I can’t at the moment. Still, I’d love to get to know you more on here**!- I’ll try to figure out when I can actually call***.

So, what brings you to Craigslist? It seems strange that a girl as cute**** as you would be on there!
Kirk

*- A lie

**- Also a lie

*** – i.e. never

****- Not a lie, but stretching the truth like crazy.

–

Kirk,

Can I just say that I love how clean your e-mails are? So many people don’t care about their e-mails and have typos galore. I can understand a few slips of the fingers, but is proofreading really a thing of the past?

When I went back and read your ad again, I had missed the part about ballroom dancing! I take ballroom dancing every Wednesday and/or Thursday in (Redacted) and I have so much fun. I am looking for a partner, but I’m also perfectly happy going by myself. My favorites are the Mambo and the Rhumba. I’m a classically trained musician, so I do well with Latin rhythms.

As for why I’m on craigslist, usually I just go look at the ads for entertainment purposes. Some people are hilarious. My favorite was one in Richmond that said, “Do you like crushing rocks with sledgehammers?” as the subject line. He ended up being a geologist, so I guess it was appropriate. Last night, I thought I might have stumbled upon a diamond in the rough so I decided to take a chance and e-mail you.

When do I get to see a picture of you?

~(Redacted)

–

(Redacted),

I apologize for not getting a picture to you- I don’t have one on my PC after I reformatted it. Do you have Facebook?

I’m flattered you like my e-mails- I’m impressed by your e-mails as well*. I get WAY too many e-mails with poor grammar, and oftentimes I refuse to respond on principle**. Then again, I’ve found that most of the people who don’t bother sending a legitimate e-mail aren’t worth bothering with anyway.

Where do you ballroom dance? I haven’t found anywhere to do it in the area- I’m part of the team at my University, but they meet rarely and I don’t have a partner. Hell, I need to practice, I imagine I’ve forgotten quite a bit.

I’m on Craigslist for the same reasons, really- actually, I posted an ad just for entertainment. I’ve gotten some creepy e-mails, it’s very refreshing to get one from someone normal!

Hope to hear from you soon,
Kirk

*- Not really

**- Also not really. If she’s hot, I don’t care if she can’t type.

–

Kirk,

Hooray for normalcy! I do have facebook. I only get to go on about twice a day because I enjoy being productive at my job. I work for a Cruise Company, and it’s the most efficient office at which I’ve ever been employed. Somehow, our boss has struck a really nice balance between allowing flexibility and encouraging productivity. I also get to go on at least one free cruise a year.

Ballroom dancing is through the parks and recreation department of -, but the teacher is far more qualified than you’d ever expect a government employee to be. If you’re interested, I can give you the address. It’s from 7:30-9:30 on Wednesdays and Thursdays. It’s divided up between advanced and beginners, but I stay for both because I like to get as much practice in as possible. You must be very advanced to be on your University team. Which University is it?

~(Redacted)

–

(Redacted),

Sorry for leaving the Facebook question open- the reason I ask is because I have pictures on there. If you’d like, you can search me up- my name is Kirk -, and I’m – ‘–.

I’d love to go to the ballroom dance group, it sounds like a blast (and is probably the very practice I need, I’m far from good at anything yet). Would you like to meet up there sometime*, or possibly go out for coffee?

Thanks,
Kirk

* Kirk from the future: NO NO NO NO NO BAD IDEA BAD IDEA DO NOT SAY THIS

–

Do you want to plan on ballroom dancing Wednesday night? I’m so excited to have a partner!

The building is at the – on -. I will try to get there at 7:15.

~(Redacted)

–

So, here’s where I actually type.

I show up about 7:20- I’m always intentionally slightly late (I hate being early, despite my military background). I then try to find the fucking building, which is somewhere off in the distance. Finally locating it, I realize I must be in the wrong place- I’m surrounded by 50-something old women. One of them was kind enough to show me the building… but something is amiss.

I walk into the door and there stands the girl. She’s 6’0″ or so, barely below my height. She’s large- wider than my football player shoulders, and apple shaped, so she’s about as “fit” as Rosie O’Donnell in her fat years. She extends her hand to me. I take it pensively. She’s wearing a full length brown wavy skirt, a mock turtleneck with a victorian emblem on it, and a cardigan. It is 80 degrees outside, I’m slightly perspiring as it is.

“Kirk, right?”

“(Redacted), right?”

I suddenly realize this has to be a big fucking joke. This girl isn’t healthy- she barely passes the standard for being normal, if not failing it somewhat. She’s sweating (obviously), and I can see the remnants of dandruff on her hairline. Her skin reminds me of abused waterlogged leather. Yes, this is cruel, but a lot of this could be fixed with good lotion and self upkeep. I’m beginning to seriously doubt this girl even showered before we met.

Certainly, I felt like a douchebag anyway, I was dressed poorly myself- wearing a dress shirt poorly tailored and my hair pushed back, I looked like a complete idiot. But at least I wasn’t dressed like the hobbling, coughing 50 year old men who looked at me with a kind of protective look. I had stepped into the fucking bees nest, and I needed to figure out how to get out.

Flash forward to meeting the club manager (who automatically frowns when he finds out my ballroom instructor is a prior pupil of his, bad blood or something) and some other people. Everyone is nice, but I feel like a black man in a KKK rally. The vibes are not good. The girl to my side constantly talks to the instructor about something I don’t know about, only sometimes mentioning stuff “we” will do together.

Wait, what? Since when did I sign up to this?

She tells me I should bring friends. My poor associates probably unknowingly cringed at the idea. “They won’t be interested” I said. She asks me “Why?”. I respond “Basement cases”, the first thing that comes to mind. She responds “Basement cases? Ohhh, you mean like people who stay in the basement and play dumb video games?”. I nod. “It’s an epidemic”. I want to choke her for insulting video games, as I left my Persona 3 FES game on at home, but I continue. “Poor fuckers don’t even bathe. I have to periodically spray them with Febreeze”. I’m lying through my teeth now. “They don’t like human interaction. They like 2D girls. They wouldn’t know what kind of beautiful women were out there”. She seems satisfied at this compliment. It was not a compliment.

Flash forward 30 minutes. We’re swing dancing. She’s backleading like she wants a penis and I’m playing it up trying to figure out how to get out of this hell. I can’t grab my phone and fake a call- I don’t know how. I can’t text one of my buddies- they wouldn’t know how to handle it, and most I don’t even have their cell phone numbers. It then hits me- my good Chinese friend. The poor fucker’s coming in on Friday, red eye, straight from Seattle. Maybe I can take this to my advantage. The first hour is complete, and she looks at me accusingly. “Ready for the next hour?”

I want to answer “No”, but I decide to be more clever than that. “I’m sorry, I have to go” I say. “Red eye. Fuck, I mean my friend is coming on on a red eye. On one of those big Jumbo jets. you know, from Seattle. Fucker doesn’t wash. I need to help him get a bath. And pick him up. Or something”.

She seems to believe this. “Well, okay. You should e-mail me!”

“Will do” I reply, clutching my savior, my keys, in my pocket. Giving my goodbyes to the teacher, I bust out and burn rubber on the parking lot.

I then spend the next 30 minutes at my place recanting this story and scrubbing myself with industrial strength lysol because I smell like her sweat. Ugh.

Okay, let me get something off my chest. I’m kinda a boytoy. I go off and hit on people but for the sake of getting attention. I’m a fucking Alfie wannabe. It’s not that I’m off trying to get laid or anything, but it’s simply a bad habit that I have yet to break. That being said, the fact that I am something of a nice arm accessory for some girls is generally never mentioned, if ever referenced. This was one of the few times I actually had to face someone saying it out straight.

So, first off, explanation. I put off an ad on my local Craigslist with a very bland title- 19 years old, normal guy, the works. Nice wording, like a fucking Jane Austen novel.  I feel confident in it enough to let it stand. It’s like a really good billboard out in the middle of some godforsaken highway- 50 miles down the road, the message still grinds at your head like a gear in a broken clock. You keep thinking, “Drink Fresh Cola”. And it permiates your Id. You want to become the Cola. And that’s exactly what I wanted, except instead of wanting them to become me, I wanted them to want me. Close enough.

So anyway, it’s about 11p on a nice Tuesday night when I get this:

Hello
40 F Greensboro 5’8 tall blue eyes auburn/red shoulder length hair 38D 35 36 Curvy
Looking for a occasional playmate…
Let me know if interested…thanks E

So I think to myself, what? What am I to gather from this? Naturally, the woman is 40 years old, and all signs (“Curvy”, 38D breasts at 5’8″, etc) are showing me that certainly, beyond all doubt, this is not good. Then again, there is a part of me that loves pain. I reply.

Send pictures and more information. 

She responds.

 what kind of information are you looking for?

Clearly, we are in trouble already. I respond.

What are you looking for, specifically?

She responds.

a boytoy, someone to run to in my spare time…someone that actually likes me and knows my name…hard to find, either that or Im too picky.. 

A-HA! I figured this out. Clearly, this is one of those “I want a young guy to fuck me senseless” kinds of e-mails. Not that they are bad by any means, but they tend to carry a creepiness to them. I’m all for older women, but when you have a 40 year old wanting to plow someone half her age, you know something is wrong. And, as it seems, it’s looks. By being “picky”, we can presume she’s just excessively picky and ugly herself, but she wants young studs. You can’t have nice men when you look like you got hit by a tractor-trailer.

She sends pictures. It’s fucking clear- she looks like the kind of women who goes home to her construction worker husband, cooks Hamburger Helper, then sleeps in a ratty gown whilst reading nasty paperback novelettes featuring studly men who love people. I decide to string her along.

 

 I know it’s crude, but do you mind providing more pictures?

She gets pissy.

Ive not seen you…

Of course, and you certainly won’t get to see me.

I’m looking for pictures right now, but send me some in the mean time.

She responds:

I dont think youre what Im looking for…good luck on your quest…thanks  E

Fuck you, E. This isn’t a fun game.

My apologies for the trouble, but I’m sure you understand I deal with a lot of bots- I’m very cautious.

 She seems relieved.

and you think Im a bot…lol…Im real…and I thought I was wary..lol

I respond.

I’ve met some clever bots. Nonetheless, what brings you to Craigslist? What would being your “boytoy” entail?

She responds

hmmm…well eat drink and be merry..and of course sex.
Bots dont carry on conversations like this….

I suppose by this point shit is getting ridiculous, so I just decide to fuck with her.

I obviously know now you are not a bot. Got AIM/MSN or something?

She:

Im on AIM

What then occurs is the shortest and lamest AIM conversation ever. She pops up, and it goes like this:

K: BOT!

E: What?

She is then resoundingly blocked, her name is deleted, and I go back to looking at cute Asian girls on the internet.