Dear Waco Craigslist,
You haven’t been on my good side lately. I’ve tried to be patient with you. I’ve tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I remained hopeful for as long as I could.
But then I could no longer hide my frustration. I could no longer overlook the fact that you’ve gotten…well…I don’t even know the word. Lazy? Uncaring?
Well, Craigslist, how do you expect me to feel when all you seem to offer me are pictures taken from terrible viewpoints, so much so that I can barely even make out what’s in the picture.
That definitely seems like a sign of laziness to me, Craigslist. What gives?
And excuse me if I sound rude, Craigslist, but what’s up with these dining chairs? Why is it this is the only style of dining chair that you ever have to offer me?
And let’s talk about your prices. Your prices! Now there’s a topic that’ll really get my blood boiling. Seriously, Craigslist, you want $100 for this “décor” shown in the awful photograph?
And $650 for this sofa with a matching loveseat, shown in yet another poor photograph?
And that leads me to another thing—sets of furniture. Craigslist, please! Did you forget that I’m an interior decorator? I tell people all the time to avoid matching sets of furniture like it’s the plague. And then you go and offer me matching set after matching set!! A three piece set that includes sofa, loveseat, and chair, for $200…
(And again, I can only take your word that that’s what it is, because the photograph just looks like a mass of horribly outdated fabric!)
Another matching set—china cabinet, table, and chairs, for $525.
When I call and ask you if I can just buy one piece, you almost always say no! “I’d like to sell it as a set,” you say.
Do you see the position you put me in, Craigslist? I have no need for matching sets of furniture…EVER!
And one more thing. Why do you list things over and over and over again, for months on end? Sometimes I get a little embarrassed for you, Craigslist, like you can’t take a hint. Take this listing, for example. You seem very proud of the fact that this was built by Amish people, and therefore you ask a high price.
But Craigslist, after months on end with obviously no takers, I would think that you’d get the hint that people don’t think the table and chairs are worth $600 just because they were built by Amish people. Perhaps you haven’t noticed that this dining set, that you think is so precious, includes the ubiquitous dining chair…virtually the only style that you seem to offer.
Craigslist, are you starting to see why I’m upset with you? Are you beginning to understand why I had almost reached my limit with you? Why my hope had waned to the point of almost being nonexistent? And why I finally had to tell my friends about my frustration?
I think you must have been able to sense that something wasn’t right about our relationship, because just as I was getting ready to kick you to the curb permanently, you go and make a peace offering. You offer the exact thing I’ve been looking for—two brand new, solid wood, heavy, sturdy bar stools, in exactly the color I need.
It was a very nice gesture. You saved me $180. And they really are gorgeous, even more so than the picture shows. The warm brown wood looks beautiful in the room, and they’re comfortable! (Well, as comfortable as barstools can be.)
So now you have me confused, Craigslist. Was this just something you did to keep me around? Are you going to be back to your old ways? Or is this the beginning of something new in our relationship? I guess it’s a wait and see. But for now, you’ve sparked that glimmer of hope in me. I forgive you, Craigslist.
Your cautiously optimistic friend (for now),