Craigslist Killer

Confession: I am a scared person.  I live most of my life in fear.  Not like “I’m afraid I’m going to FAIL and be WORTHLESS and my life will mean NOTHING” … More like the “I’m having a hard time breathing and I’m sweating kind of profusely because I’m afraid that I will be abducted/break a bone/die/get yelled at” kind of fear.  Tangent: I actually don’t know why I’m afraid that I’ll break a bone – I’ve only broken my arm, once.  That happened when I got in a street fight with a gang and I got shoved, so I threw a punch, and then the other kid high-kicked my arm and it snapped.  


Actually, I fell off of my pogo-stick in fifth grade, but the other story makes me sound like less of a sissy. 1. Who has a pogo-stick? 2. Who thinks it’s cool to jump on said pogo-stick?  Fifth grade Sara Jane Vanderstappen did.


So anyways, I’m afraid of most things, like the dark and being by myself in my apartment and funny noises.  I’m a very VERY jumpy person, which does not work well because where I work I face the wall, so when I don’t hear someone coming up behind me, they scare the living daylights out of me, and then they laugh and I get all embarrassed.


Last week, I was on this Craigslist kick.  Have you used this website?  I am convinced that you could find ANYTHING on it.  I was looking for a couple of tennis rackets so that Peter and could enjoy the summer weather that we’ve had about 3 days of (Happy Summer Solstice, by the way.  Longest day of the year.  Guess what.  It’s torrential downpouring up here in the north woods today.  Boooooo) by getting all athletic and playing tennis.  Note: I have not played tennis since second grade.  I found two tennis rackets.  A man’s and a woman’s.  Perfect!  $25 for the pair.  Gently used.  Hooray!  


I emailed the link on the top of the page.  Got an email back asking when I wanted to come look at the rackets.  Emailed back saying Wednesday after I was done with work would be great.  Got an email with an address, phone number, and “my name is Tammy.”  Alright.


Wednesday after work, I got into my car, plugged in the GPS, and away I went on the fourth step of becoming an athlete (Step 1: thinking about it.  Step 2: Craigslist.  Step 3: Contact.  Step 4: the pick-up.). 


As I was driving… I started getting nervous.  And really starting psyching myself out.  


Did I tell anyone that I was going to pick up the rackets today??
What am I supposed to do if something happens to me?
I don’t know this area very well…
Will Peter start to worry if I don’t answer my phone later?  
Will he call the police?
SHOOT, I should have told him the address that I’m going to in case he has to call the police.
I hope I’m not on the nightly news.
WHERE AM I EVEN GOING??  


My hands were getting reaaaaaaaaaaal sweaty.  Right before I pulled into the driveway of a quaint little house with a really pretty garden out front, I decided that even if the damn rackets had huge HOLES in them, I was going to buy them.  Because I didn’t want a confrontation.  Or to get like, slashed if I said I didn’t want them, which at this point, I DIDN’T want them.


It was raining outside when I pulled up.  Just like the horror films where something really bad is going to happen.  


When I got out of my car, I heard about 534 3 dogs barking inside.  Greaaaaaaaaat.  We all know how I feel about dogs…  I hurried to the door.  And it opened.  And I almost bolted because I was so fricking scared because I had convinced myself that I was about to meet the Oconto Falls Craigslist Killer.


Then I saw Tammy.  Nurse Tammy.  Young, pretty nurse Tammy.  She asked if I wanted to see the rackets.  I said yes, took one step inside the door, and waited.  She brought the tennis rackets.  I handed her the money – didn’t even open the zippered cases that were covering the strings.  


Tammy: “… Do you want to make sure they’re ok?”

Sara: [in my head] Is this a trap?  When I take my eyes off of her is she going to pull out a gun?  Whack me over the head with the vase sitting on the table that is just an arm’s length away?



Sara: [out loud] Suuuuuuuuuuure. *half-unzips zippers* THEYLOOKGREAT.THANKSBYE.


And I left.  And then I called Peter.


Peter: Hey Sar.


Sara: Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I’m ok.


Peter: … Wait… What?  Did something happen?  


Sara: I just picked up the tennis rackets from the Craigslist lady.  And she wasn’t a killer or anything, she was actually really nice.  I was really scared.  Like REALLY scared.


Peter: … ummm… I’m glad you’re ok?


Sara: Yeah.  Me too.


Not that I ever over-react or anything.  


And Peter’s DEFINITELY not used to me over-reacting.  


Ever.


By the way.  We played tennis on Saturday with our friends Brooke and Travis.  


Conversation after tennis – 


Sara: My arm hurts.  My legs hurt.  I’m hot.  


Peter: … Really?

Sara: WELL I HAVEN’T PLAYED TENNIS SINCE SECOND GRADE.  GIVE ME A BREAK.



Peter: You know, Sar, I was actually pretty impressed with your tennis skills.


Sara:  Finally.  FINALLY.  After almost THREE YEARS of dating I have FINALLY managed to impress you.


Peter: *annoyed face*


Sara: You need to keep trying.


Peter: *even more annoyed face*

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