The Craigslist!

We are amidst in a fury of notwithstanding, theological assumptions. Although we are now clearing our way free of any sort of Christianity imposed by centuries of oppression, we still abide by the laws given to us. My take on organized religion in as few sentences as possible is: whatever floats your boat, man.

I signed up to the craigslist the other day. I will give you my ad:

Looking for activity buddies for squash, tennis, biking, etc. Interested in platonic relationships, though would prefer to explore the possibility of more. Seeking masculine, attractive guys around my age (from 25-40 no exceptions unless you're fucking hot). Please send me a face picture if interested.

The only reply I get is from my ex. I haven’t heard from this jerk in almost a year, and lo and behold: he is the sole responder. First, he sends a picture of himself in a ball cap, green sweater, supporting a beard and a smile I know all too well; there is a cat in his arms which I cannot identify. He writes, "I'm the one with the hat". Nice, I remember that humor, and frankly, I don't care much for it.

He interested in getting to know me, and he readily supplies his stats, including his size down below. I mean, come on people, if you read my ad at all, do you think that’s the sort of information I was looking for?

Regardless, he looks older, and his picture isn’t that attractive. I’m glad I can at least get that sort of enjoyment out of seeing him trying to cruise me online. You can’t avoid the pigs in this sub-culture. Even when I make a wholesome ad, and state my intentions about wanting sincere relationships that doesn’t necessarily have to be about sex, I still get these assholes.

I e-mail him back (he knows my address) and I say “I know who you are, faggot!” Serves him right really. I’m not a bitter person, I am more pissed off because I can’t escape this sub-culture, and find something quasi-normal in this day and age. Than again, I’m still looking in the wrong places. Would someone mind telling me the right places to look?

I’m going to remove my ad from the craigslist. I think being a social butterfly and a sexual hermit for the rest of my life won’t necessarily be a bad thing. I can concentrate on yoga, spiritual enlightenment, and physical fitness. Already I see tremendous gains, and my outlook, and authority on life has picked up their place. Next on the list of things to do, could very well be owning a business. I can see myself owning a high-end fashion or furniture store, and ‘working in the trenches’. I can team up with my subordinates and really make sales, and feel like I’m contributing.

I would be good at the business and marketing side of things. It’s the uncertainty and risk that I have an issue with. There are many people in my life, who can pick up on new ventures without batting an eye – perhaps entertaining a discussion over gelato one day, and the next taking action. I haven’t quite mastered that yet, but it certainly seems amazing. Would my friends stomachs be as queasy as my own?

I’m imagining myself in Armani suits and a very expensive, shiny Rolex; with teeth brilliant white; and a smile that says accomplishment. I am strolling down the halls of my business having the most wonderful conversations with my customers. They are laughing, and polished, and brilliant. At the same time, my fellow employees probably think I’m a fake, and the customers themselves can see right through me. Those things aren’t important right now, because I’m on a new business high. It won’t taper off, not this time, and I will forever love the place I’m in – it’s my sanctuary and something I love discussing over 5 star dinners with my posh friends.

That is the world that most people fit me into. They say, “That’s where you belong, Charlie; you’d love it, don’t say otherwise, we know better." In a way I agree, I mean I’d love it as much as anything else. I got the same excitement working as a fisherman for 10 years, with different constraints of course; or my bout as a tour guide for two years was real and meaningful…I don’t think I should be stuck into the upper echelon of society because I sometimes come across as a prissy, spoiled entrepreneur that bases his entire existence on excelling.

My parents were upper class, white trash, if that makes any sense. I have my roots, man. Growing up in poor town Newfoundland will always keep me grounded. I went from a have not province to the one the most have provinces in Canada. I like the finer things, but at the same time would love to get dirty and drink beers with my buds back on the rock. It’s no different.