My Farewell to craigslist
Dear craigslist,
I am unspeakably saddened to have to cast you aside. Truly, this day never seemed possible, my beloved craigy! The countless times I have clicked on your name in my Bookmarks Bar…for a while there, it was like an involuntary twitch!
I have roamed your corridors from Missouri to Hong Kong. My postings have stretched across your broad database in search of a better life and I have connected with many wonderful people based on your introductions. I was hooked from the moment my friend in Los Angeles told me about the free couch she scored off you. I was thrilled when I landed my first paying gig from your solicitors. I met a great friend after bartering through you—yoga lessons for furniture. It was like I had joined an e-topian society!
This is why it hurts so to let you go. How could it have come to this?
I was undaunted by news reports of crimes that involved you. Surely the millions of romances spawned by reconnecting those missed connections and gainfully employing the World made up for the few random acts of cruelty!
What I cannot tolerate about you any more is this: you have let yourself go. While you still look the same after all these years, you have changed so much inside that I barely recognize you. Once a laid back, hipster haven, you have become a flop house for scam artists, pervs, cheap bastards, and idiots.
It makes me feel dirty to glance at your gigs—who would have ever thought a “Flyer Distribution” ad would actually be a blowjob request in disguise? Your job boards make me feel like my time and skills are worth less than a Slurpee. $4 for a 500-word research article on advancements in cardiology? Seriously?
Worst yet, the ads I have placed in your Services sector have made me a beacon for freaks. Some of the “clients” I have acquired through your channels have been so horrendous that I have had to pay them to take my hard work and leave me alone.
The saddest thing for me is that I still need you. I am desperate for a pet sitter, but I just can’t take the chance of having to change the locks on my house again, like I did after giving the last craigslist pet sitter the keys to my home. And I still need a job—more than ever now that I have spent months going on bogus interviews that I scored through your perps.
I realize it’s not entirely your fault. You are merely a canvas on which your visitors paint. But craigy, you’re dripping with lead-based paint and tags. Don’t you want to clean yourself up?
I wish I could tell you how to banish the scammers and sleaze from your pages. I want you to succeed, CL. But I can’t hang around you anymore. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you have now been deleted from my Bookmarks Bar.
peace
I am unspeakably saddened to have to cast you aside. Truly, this day never seemed possible, my beloved craigy! The countless times I have clicked on your name in my Bookmarks Bar…for a while there, it was like an involuntary twitch!
I have roamed your corridors from Missouri to Hong Kong. My postings have stretched across your broad database in search of a better life and I have connected with many wonderful people based on your introductions. I was hooked from the moment my friend in Los Angeles told me about the free couch she scored off you. I was thrilled when I landed my first paying gig from your solicitors. I met a great friend after bartering through you—yoga lessons for furniture. It was like I had joined an e-topian society!
This is why it hurts so to let you go. How could it have come to this?
I was undaunted by news reports of crimes that involved you. Surely the millions of romances spawned by reconnecting those missed connections and gainfully employing the World made up for the few random acts of cruelty!
What I cannot tolerate about you any more is this: you have let yourself go. While you still look the same after all these years, you have changed so much inside that I barely recognize you. Once a laid back, hipster haven, you have become a flop house for scam artists, pervs, cheap bastards, and idiots.
It makes me feel dirty to glance at your gigs—who would have ever thought a “Flyer Distribution” ad would actually be a blowjob request in disguise? Your job boards make me feel like my time and skills are worth less than a Slurpee. $4 for a 500-word research article on advancements in cardiology? Seriously?
Worst yet, the ads I have placed in your Services sector have made me a beacon for freaks. Some of the “clients” I have acquired through your channels have been so horrendous that I have had to pay them to take my hard work and leave me alone.
The saddest thing for me is that I still need you. I am desperate for a pet sitter, but I just can’t take the chance of having to change the locks on my house again, like I did after giving the last craigslist pet sitter the keys to my home. And I still need a job—more than ever now that I have spent months going on bogus interviews that I scored through your perps.
I realize it’s not entirely your fault. You are merely a canvas on which your visitors paint. But craigy, you’re dripping with lead-based paint and tags. Don’t you want to clean yourself up?
I wish I could tell you how to banish the scammers and sleaze from your pages. I want you to succeed, CL. But I can’t hang around you anymore. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you have now been deleted from my Bookmarks Bar.
peace
