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“Why you should never sell your panties on Craigslist.”

(Mom, you might not want to read this.)

I caught a little Craigslist fever a while back. It was just around Christmas time and I was in a panic about how we would pay for it all. I started looking around the house for stuff I could sell on Craigslist. That’s when I found this ad:

Looking for a little extra cash for the holidays? I’m a nice, normal guy (good looking) with a panty fetish. I’ll buy your panties for $25.

Deprived of my use of reason for fear that Santa might skip our house this year, I mulled it over breifly and figured “why not?” So I respond. I was a desperate woman.

(Don’t judge!)

Panties? I have some panties, and I hate doing laundry. Maybe we could help each other out. I won’t be meeting you, I’ll mail them to you.

That was fine with him, but he requested a picture. I emailed an old one that didn’t even look like me. And then I got this message back:

Did you grow up in [insert town I actually did grow up in]?

Jesus Christ, God, and Fuck.

A wave of intense nausea came over me, the computer screen went fuzzy, and the theme song from Psycho deafened me as I studied the initials in his email address and realized that I knew him. Not only did i know him, but I had a monster crush on him in Jr. High and he was a total wanker toward me. And now he’s trying to buy my underpants!

Screaming, I immediately dove to the floor and hid under my desk. Then I ran down the stairs and literally rolled myself into my living room rug. Still screaming, I dialed my friend Valerie from high school who screamed with me and nearly laughed herself into a coma when we realized that not only am I a giant idiot, but Mr. All-American dimple boy is a big panty sniffer!

Naturally I didn’t want to confirm his suspicions about my identity, so Val and I agreed that the only thing to do was to say nothing, send the panties, and never ever speak of this again. At least, that was the plan, until he emailed me a description of what he wanted the panties to be like. Did you know that there are actual people out there who will pay money for DIRTY underwear? With, like, “essence of woman” dried on them? Eeewwwww!!! I thought I was just sending some clean ones straight out of the laundry that smelled like flowery body lotion, not a freaking biohazard!!! Needless to say, I backed out of the deal realfuckinquick.

Sometimes the universe whispers to you, sometimes it shouts, and sometimes it beats you over the head with your high school yearbook.

And that’s how I learned you should never sell your panties on Craigslist.