Dear Craigslist is an ongoing series of real craigslist ads posted by STUBBLE contributors.
EPISODE THREE (Post-Date: 3/25/10)
Anybody down for some gaze-play? - 21 (Uptown)
My name is “Dan.” I’m looking for a girl who wants to be looked at by me. I’ll tell you right now that if we’re going to do this, it’s going to be different from any date you’ve had before. “Sure,” you’re thinking. “Why wouldn’t I let a guy look at me if we’re on a date?” Here’s the thing, though: you’re not going to be able to look at me. At no point during our interaction together will you see any part of me. It’ll be like a fun episode of The Dating Game, except I’ll know what you look like. Since this date will be about seeing (my seeing you and your being seen by me), it will be essential that you send pictures of yourself if you expect any sort of reply. I, obviously, will not be reciprocating with pictures of myself, but I may send you a cryptic series of images, some ironic and some not ironic, with which you may try, futilely, to piece together some idea of me, Dan.
Here’s what I like in a typical first date:
I’ll drive up to your house in a classic black Lincoln limousine. You will exit the house looking your best and enter the back seat of the car. A large garbage bag will have been draped in front of you so that I may remain unseen. I will have left a black bandanna on the seat next to you, which you will then fashion into a blindfold. We’ll go to the Old Spaghetti Factory and get some lasagna; don’t worry, I’ll lead you around so you don’t run into anyone and embarrass yourself. I’ll watch intently as you struggle to feed yourself. You’ll become frustrated and admit that you need me to feed you, at which point I will. You’ll lose track of time behind that blindfold of yours, but I’ll know because I’ll see. If everything goes well, maybe we can go back to my place for some fun.
By fun, I don’t mean what you’re probably thinking. I’m not into sex, and certainly not on a first date, you silly little woman. No, what I have in mind will be much better, and it’s in my garage. What I’ve got for you is this eight foot-wide dodecagon of full-length two way mirrors-I call it “the Danopticon.” It spins exactly as fast as I want it to. What we’ll do is set you up in there with no clothes on. You can take your blindfold off now. All you’ll see is yourself, completely exposed, reflected and refracted a million times; you’ll be visible from any angle though unable to see Dan. You’ll be able to hear and smell me, sure. All the better for you to fear me. The Danopticon will spin round and round until you are too disoriented to question your circumstances or to try to understand my screams. Don’t worry, I’ll be there all the time, standing just on the other side. You may even think you see me through the tiny cracks between mirrors. My and your nude bodies will seem to merge, like those cards where you draw a bird on one side and a cage on the other side, and if you spin it real fast it looks like the bird is IN the cage. I, the Danopticon, and you will become inseparable in (y)our consciousness. Then, I’ll take you back to a home that will haunt you every time you look into a bathroom mirror, a window, an especially clean plate.
Older ladies are preferred, but as long as you’re at least 21 we’ll be fine. Must love men. No smokers, please.
Editor in Chief