“I really shouldn’t be doing this.”
Her title cheekily reads, “Sticking It to The Man Cruising Craigslist At Work?”
He hardens as he glances at the erotic pictures below the ad.
“How does she come up with this stuff? Oh God, what if she’s a dude?”
Heel clicks approach.
He minimizes but cannot close her window.
His boss fills his cubicle entrance and looks down at him with a third concern, a third frustration, and a third of something unreadable.
Twenty three minutes, two bemused, stifled, co-worker, bodiless, giggles, and one public corrective action later, he is alone in his cramped box.
Chewed out, he bites his upper lip and closes his eyes.
On the insides of his eyelids, he plays the tape forward.
He answers her(?) latest ad telling her how he first read her weeks ago and would recognize her writing style anywhere.
The first time, he was in a hurry, and bookmarked it to read later. He came back, and it was flagged for deletion.
And, now he constantly trolls craigslist personal ads hoping for her words, when he should be contributing to the new frontiers of life insurance actuary.
Then, he makes some funny remark about accessing the risk of contacting her, maybe with an Anias Nin quote thrown in for good measure.
She writes back something quirky, brief, and intriguing.
He responds the same day with a hopefully as equally inspired message and a picture of him playing in the pool with his niece and nephew. He thinks this a brilliant move showing his defined, freckled chest and his love of kids.
Not so subtle of him, but he senses she prefers blunt force.
She sends a note reading only “moi” with a picture attachment.
He clicks the paperclip icon and is stunned.
She’s a statuesque Amazon with flaming, flowing red hair.
Hmmm, a little intimidating.
She’s a petite pearl of an Asian woman with almond, exotic eyes and…
“Are you sleeping?”
He slams his eyes open and mumbles something about a migraine.
She shrugs and walks away.
It occurs to him that maybe he could google one of the stanzas from her poem and find a book or site about his Raphaelite beauty or China doll.
He copies and pastes her sexiest poem into the search engine.
And, he finds her blog!
He presses his cursor to the About section hoping to glimpse his allusive, literary sex goddess.
“Oh my God, how can someone so fat, be so sexually active?”
Thoughts of her, send him to the gym.
Thoughts of her, force him to the communal men’s shower.
“I really shouldn’t be doing this.”
veehaunanifitzhugh 