So let's hop right in, because I don't know if tomorrow is going to bring something cooler or weirder, or if I'm going to hit a dry patch for a while and just continue to embellish on interesting things that have happened in the past.
I love craigslist. I love to fuck with people on craigslist, and I love starting conversations I will never follow through with on craigslist (cheaper and more varied than erotica). In doing this recently, I came across a group of people that have an incredible fetish - panties. I don't know why I haven't capitalized on this in the past! I immediately responded to a post requesting panties with "I have panties..." and quickly learned guys will pay upwards of $40 for a pair of soiled undergarments with which to feed their fetish. Easy money? Count me in.
The gentleman in question and I quickly established where the pickup/dropoff would be, and negotiated $40 as a fee. I was told to put them in a plastic bag and was to meet him in a parking lot, probably not safe, but I was feeling reckless. After work, I went home and removed my panties and put them into a bag, as requested. Then I mixed a gin & tonic for the road and drove to the Rainbow foods parking lot, and sat nervously. Waiting.
A few things went through my mind - am I crazy? Is this dangerous? Am I hot enough to make $40 for my panties?
Then I remembered that the person I had been corresponding with had refused to send me a picture of himself. I felt my mouth go dry and realized that the first guy who walked up to my truck with a peg leg and a half-melted face was probably my guy. I took another sip of my gin & tonic and wondered if my skirt made me look fat.
Nothing. I wait 20 minutes. Nothing.
I finally pull out of the parking lot, feeling completely rejected that the man who had the panty fetish had stood me up. Had he seen me from afar and thought that my poonani must smell like cabbage? C'mon, give my cooter carriers a sniff, I've never had any complaints. I think it smells a bit like potatoes.
So I get home and I sign onto my email and am about ready to e-yell at his ass, only to find about 4 emails hoping I hadn't left yet and explaining that he'd be late. We corresponded and he said he'd be there the next night.
Night 2: go home, put panties in a baggie, mix gin & tonic for the road. Get to the parking lot and pull into a spot. A cute, early 30s blond guy steps out of the car next to me and taps on the passenger side window. What? Mystery panty man? Is hot? Looks like he should be coaching little league? Cool.
Then again, Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy weren't slouches, either... I mean, look at how much Jeffrey Dahmer looks like Ryan Seacrest:
But he hopped in, shook my hand, smiled and made me feel comfortable. Said that now since we'd broken the ice hopefully things would be less strange if we met up again. Then he bid me good evening and stepped out of the truck, panty sack in paw. I was about to ask about the $40, when I looked down and saw that he'd very discreetly put it in my purse.
He was a man of his word.
I drove home and told my husband about it - his response? "I'd sell my underwear for a lot less than that." So we're cool. Then he took me out to Target to buy a few pairs of new panties.
I received an email from my panty-loving pal later on. Apparently he was quite pleased with the product and suggested we do it again. I told him I would be happy to. He explained that I shouldn't worry about him wearing them or anything, because that's not what he does.
Of course not, because that would be weird.
I love craigslist.
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