31 Days of August

Day 19: The Line

Day 19: Write a scene based off only one line in a song.

I got a fake ID and a checklist/ It goes never meet a girl on Craigslist

"Hi! I'm Stacy!" the girl before me introduced herself with a wide smile and her eyes bugged out. I forced myself to smile back as I took her in. Shit. I was definitely in trouble. Standing in front of me was a chick about my age, only by the way that she was dressed, it didn't appear as such. On her body was a pair of sweats with puppies on them, and a pink Care Bear shirt. Her hair hung in two high pigtails, and she had bright red lipstick smudged all over her lips. Like, she didn't look college-age at all. More like a six year old--if that.

"Valerie," I returned after a moment.

"So you're the one who's interested in the couch?" she questioned in this peppy tone that sounded as though it contained a sprinkling of Lucky Charms.

"Yep," I said slowly, instantly regretting that I had gone here alone.

"Do you want to see it?" was the next thing asked by the girl. I just nodded as she said, "Well, let's go!" And so, because I had terrible boundaries and trusted people way too easily who should've been in the mental ward of their local hospital, I followed Stacy inside her apartment, keeping my distance in case she decided to randomly pull a knife out on me or stab my shin with a My Little Pony. 

Her apartment reflected her attire to a T. Everything was mismatched and there were a billion plush animals scattered about the room. It was a small space, and felt even tinier with the addition of all the stuffed animals. There was clutter everywhere, and the walls were painted a hideous light pink that made me want to puke. All in all, I definitely didn't want to spend anymore time that required in this place.

"And here's the couch!" Stacy finally announced as we came to a large piece of furniture. Just as it had been listed online, the object was large and white--just like I wanted. It was an odd contrast to the chaotic rainbow scheme within the apartment, but maybe that was why she was selling it--it was too plain.

"It's, uh, nice," I commented, feeling the need to say something. 

"Yeah! This baby and me have spent a lot of time together!" she informed me, affectionately petting the couch. Yes, this chick just began to rub her hand along the arm of the inanimate object that she was getting rid of. "So, you want her or what?" Ugh. It had a gender.

"Uh, what were you selling it for again?"

"She's worth more, but just a hundred," Stacy said, continuing to fondly stroke "her."

"Wow. That's a great price," I found my cheap student alter ego expressing.

"Yes it is! So, can I just see some ID so that I know that you're really Valerie and not some imposter?" she requested with that sugary voice of hers. I found the paranoid desire to be, well, paranoid and freaking weird, but because I happened to hate conflict, I complied. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a laminated card, holding it out for Stacy to see. She narrowed her eyes, and then shook her head. "Uh, that says that your name is Megan!"

Shit. It was beginning to feel like the start of that Hoodie Allen song--No Interupption. I got a fake ID and checklist; it goes never meet a girl off Craigslist. Well, Hoodie, you were definitely right about two things: I had my fake ID that was used whenever I felt like purchasing some alcohol underage, and that checklist of yours was definitely right--never meet a girl off Craigslist. That was where I had met Stacy, and my lazy decision of just not ordering a couch online was really starting to haunt me.

"Uh, sorry," I apologized, stuffing the card away and pulling out the correct one that actually said "Valerie" on it, "that was, uh, my sister's ID." Something told me that Stacy wasn't exactly the type of girl that understood the vitality of a fake ID and why they were so beneficial to the world, so a little white lie couldn't hurt.

"Oh, that's perfectly all right!" she told me with a giggle. "So, are you going to take the couch today, or come back for it?"

"If it's fine with you, I think that I might come back with a few friends to help move it," I told her with a gulp.

"Friends? Oh, I just love people! Don't you?"

"Yep," I restrained myself from rolling my eyes as the one-worded answer was uttered. "It was, um, nice meeting you. When I should I come back?"

"Whenever you're available! You're not leaving not, are you?" she probed with a hint of detectable concern. I couldn't exactly figure out why it was lining her voice, but whatever. This chick was weird as hell. 

"Well, yeah, I was going to..." I trailed off, my eyes glancing over to the door as I wondered what I was going to have to do in order to leave this place alive.

"Oh! Don't you think you could stay a little longer! I baked cookies and set up all of my Polly Pockets and Barbies! We could play! Wouldn't that be so much fun?" she exclaimed, what I took to be a grin forming on her face, though it looked more like one of those creepy smirks that murderers always gave their victims before killing them.

"No," I said straight-up. Yeah, I definitely needed to get out of here.

"Please, Valerie! My Barbies would really love it if someone else played with them instead of just me!" she insisted.

"Yeah, I need to go," I said, walking over to the exit in a hurry. She raced with me, stepping in front of me before I could leave.

"No!" she said, continuing to block my escape route.

"Stacy, please move," I implored as politely as I could.

"If you leave now and don't play with me then you're not getting the couch!" she threatened like it was a big deal. 

For half a second I contemplated actually staying, but then I figured that my own apartment could definitely go a few more weeks without a couch--especially if it was from nut like this chick. "Yeah, Imma go now," I said in finality, managing to somehow surpass her and open the door. Once I stepped onto the carpeted floor of the hall of other doors, I began to run, and run fast. Hoodie was right. Never, ever, ever meet a girl on Craigslist.