Screwing Old Guys on Craigslist Over A Mirror

A few years ago my wife wanted a mirror for our place that was simple, elegant, and didn't carry a reflection of long-dead Pig War participants. She found one through West Elm ("World Market items at Masins prices!") and we ordered it and hung it up. It was/is a nice little piece. Rectangular, borderless, with a glass shelf in the lower-quarter of it. It's a nice addition to an entryway, bathroom, Swinger Shed, what-have-you. And after a few years and a move to-from California, we just don't have the place for it anymore. Couldn't garage-sell it, so we did the on-line garage sale that is Craigslist.

You can find anything on Craigslist, from pagan roommates with fish allergies to 18" rimz fo' yo' whip (that's a car, mom), to strangers who want to teach your kids stuff. I said "teach," not "touch," right? Okay, just checking. You can also find somebody to send 38 emails to about your desire to meet the right person just beforeyou bail on meeting somebody face-to-face, a key component of GETTING THE SEX. And you can find old people to screw for $20.

We tried to sell the mirror to a guy we'll call Smokey. He smokes a lot. I know because he had 2 packs of Liggett Red Kings of various fill in his Camaro. He dressed exclusively in black & white. His car is white with a black rag top, black & white steering wheel, white mods to the dash, etc. He wanted the white-backed mirror for his condo. I know because after we posted the mirror on Craigslist for $20 (it was $100 originally) he emailed saying he wanted it for his condo, which is all black and white and chrome, which is what he told me about his place. I went to meet him in public because you just don't let people know where you live, especially if you are going to screw them.

So I take this $100 mirror to a parking lot mid-way between our homes. He's inside the ROSS looking for something black and/or white and/0r chrome. He chooses this lifestyle. He comes out to meet me, tells me he doesn't get outta the house much because he's fighting cancer, hands me a $20 bill, and I carefully help him transfer the mirror to his Camaro, which I have already set the scene for. Cigarettes. Black & white (like the ashes of the cigarettes). Godspeed, Sir.

I get a voicemail 20minutes later saying this:
"Hey there GEOFF, this is Smokey, and boy you really pulled one over on me, boy. Good job there, Geoff. Yeah, this mirror's no good. Totally ruined. There's moisture behind it, probably been in a bathroom, it's junk. I'm trying to clean it up but I don't know. And there was a price tag on it for $15, so you got me good, but hey, YOU came out ahead $20, so there ya go."

1) I'm down $80 plus gas, I'm not ahead $20

2) No pre-inspection of the mirror in the parking lot, caveat emptor, this is a garage sale scenario

3) If you can see yourself in the $20 mirror, it's not ruined

4) It is never my intent to put the screws to somebody, that's bad karma, and worse when it's $20 off a guy who is battling cancer... AND SMOKING

5) Buyer's remorse/guilt can be easily swayed by spreading the blame around, just kick it right back to them and act very put-out

I need the karma more than the $20, and while I'm usually a "tough-love" kind of guy, I called the old cancer patient back and took his still-folded $20 back to meet him in the same parking lot. Anything that wastes my time pisses me off. Anything that takes away from my family or my happiness pisses me off. And this was doing both. So this self-weathered asshole was pissing me off. And he does this kind of thing because...

1) He has no family

2) He has no hobbies

3) He is bad with time management

When you're fighting cancer and have shit-else to do, save that time for something important like not thinking Craigslist is some kind of factory-direct shipping company catering to your every need for decor and/or ashtrays. Hell, don't even wait to get cancer, just act like that now, don't waste your time nor others, keep your ethics high, your expectations low-to-moderate, and you probably won't get cancer. Take a good long look in the mirror, Smokey.

How much more black & white can I get?

Take Me Home

MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT

The Super Beyond

The painful illness of my friend's father has cut-loose enough of an emotional oil-slick in me to devote some time to a Life piece. My blast on Justin Bieber's ridiculable haircut shall wait for another day.

Having lost my dad in November of 2008, and later becoming a father, I have a much greater appreciation for life, babies, mommies, and the duties of parenting. I see how much influence I may have on my son some day. And how difficult it can be to live with integrity and coolheadedness when you haven't slept much and can play 183 arrangements of "Old MacDonald" on a 1-octave plastic piano. And this is WITH technological advancements as outlets of frustration and socializing.

As I'm wont to do, time to time, I pray to God about my life. Usually I am thanking Him for keeping me alive after a litany of moves equivalent to Justin Bieber's haircut (it seemed cool at the time, but then we went on two wheels, and the gas can tipped over, and my cigarette...). Seriously close calls in my life that would have given my parents synchronized cardiac arrest had they known about it. And for some reason I am here with a beautiful wife, wonderful baby guy, awesome friends, and a bright future in a number of careers. And I have to Thank God for a lot of it.

Some people love to jump off their Agnosticar or Atheistar Van long enough to bash and/or ridicule my choice of spiritual pursuit. I pray for them, too. I don't point a finger back and tell them they're wrong for believing - or not believing - the way they do. I accept them as people, and move on. But all the same, I don't condone nor defend the Crusades, the Catholic Priest scandals, nor any other atrocity committed by a person wrapping themselves in the gossamer layers of Christianity, Religion, Islam, or Professional Wrestling. Every group's got their shit-heads.

And for every shit-head there are 1,000 fantastic people. And knowing that everybody, great and not-so, good and bad, weird and conformist, will all biologically die some day just makes me realize that our relationships to one another are the MOST IMPORTANT thing we can have in life. Especially if they are good, healthy, self-actualizing, loving, and mutually beneficial. We don't have to be close to step on toes. And we don't have to step on toes just because we're close. And I only ever wear close-toe shoes.

So if you're gonna live a long time, have some stories to tell when you get there. If you're not gonna live a long time, give everyone else a story about how you went out big. But for the sake of dead rockstars, don't just muddle about doing squat in hopes you'll just make it to 90 with a full tread on your tires. Nobody wants to hear about how you never swam the rapids or farted in your hand to smother your friend's face when camping. Especially God. No time for it.

Go live. Do one thing today that scares you or somebody else.

Justin Bieber's hair is really stupid, though. I'm happy my dad isn't alive to see it. And if I'm a "hater," I include Bieberfolliclegate among my other instances of "hating," including "Dane Cook's Act," "Fans of Insane Clown Posse," "Guys Who Make That KissyFace To The Camera," and "Misquoting PseudoJournalists Obsessed With MurderCases."

Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT, NPO

On Getting Older

While I've been rising before 6:30 every morning since last Friday, OOOOH!, I have been getting to sleep later than I ought to. Not tonight, friend. I'll be off to bed by 9:30pm because my son has exactly NO SENSE of time, nor that he should sleep more than 107minutes at a stretch.

And before my carriage takes to slumber 'pon sheets of Voltron so brave, I will have excitedly brushed with a BRAND NEW TOOTH'S BRUSH! I can't tell you how excited I am about it, because I'm not that big of a nerd.

Colgate 360 Deep Clean!

But you can tell, huh? Excitement? Nerd? Tongue Brush? Yes, Yes, and You Bet Your Clean, Gluten-Free Ass.

OF COURSE a review will follow! Stay riveted...

Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad