My own Craigslist story

It is terribly frightening what happened to that girl who was killed via her Craigslist contact.
Even more scary that the killer appeared to be a normal, or what appeared normal to his family and friends, college student.

My Craigslist furniture adventures are always very dull. I would never meet someone in a hotel room, for crying out loud and usually when I go look at furniture the piece is in the open garage so I don't even have to go in the house. I have never even been frightened or even remotely uneasy. I also as a backup always call hubs and tell him the address of where I am.

I have been looking for a little club type chair, with ottoman preferably, for what is going to be my little nook in our "new" house. Remember, new granite...so my budget for a chair is like $50.

I found one on Craigslist last week for $55, without an ottoman, but still looked promising and I could always find an ottoman.

So I call the nice lady and set up a time to see it. I tell hubs my whereabouts, go to her house in a nice neighbor (in fact your neighborhood Lorie!), a nice house and am all set to see this chair that I can afford.

She comes out in front when I pull up and she doesn't look deranged or anything. She was older and her hair was way too long for her age and way too grey & stringy for the length..... but otherwise nice enough!

As we are walking towards her door into her house she says "I have an older cat, so you know, please forgive the litter box." Now I am a cat owner and terribly paranoid about the litter box and odors. If you take care of the litter box regularly then odor is not a problem. My biggest fear is a visitor walking in through the back door, in the litter box vicinity, immediately after the cat had pooped. In which case it would smell like poop.

So I was prepared to give her a little grace. I am a cat lover after all.

We walked in and the smell of cat pee TOOK MY BREATH AWAY! I kid you not, it was foul. I was mortified. I am assuming her entire house was the litter box. To top it all off the house was wall to wall clutter. The kitchen counters were piled high with clutter, the living room was a maze through all the clutter. In the middle of the living room was a 1970's variety orange and green burnt velvet couch and love seat lovingly ensconced in the fitted plastic cover...not just plastic thrown over it, but the fitted, squeaky version the likes of which I have not seen since the 70's.

The house made what my teenage son's room used to look like at its worst, look tame. And yet they were worried about preserving a 30 year old couch?

We made our way to the chair and it was perfect. Dang it, it was perfect. The perfect size and in good shape, meaning the frame was strong with no wobbling. I knew I would most likely be recovering any chair I found so the fabric didn't phase me.

There was NO way in heck I was buying it. I was breathing through my mouth at this point. She insisted I sit down on it. I was so grossed out, but not to be rude, so I precariously perched on the edge touching as little of the chair as I could with my body and said "oh yes, very comfortable" and then jumped up.

I was just dying inside because it was just right....except for the nasty horrid putrid house it was in!!! I was feeling claustrophobic both from the clutter and the thick stench. I felt like I could not breath.

While still breathing through my mouth, I politely thanked her, telling her unfortunately the chair was the wrong size.

I walked out and took a huge cleansing breath of fresh air...without my perfect chair.

Poor thing, she will never sell that chair while it is in that house.

However, I found the perfect chair and ottoman the next day on Craigslist. No pet odors and I bought it. It is in my new nook and is purrrfect. I will have to recover it, since it is an interesting lavender color. I think this fabric is going to be my #1 choice. Seriously, could you just die that is so cute? I took a picture of the chair in my nook...but then remember I left my camera at our "new" house 90 miles away. Ooopps.