Room For Rent

A few years ago, I posted an ad on Craigslist, looking for a roommate. The prospect of having to share my charming Victorian with a stranger was not something that thrilled me. But I’d recently gotten a divorce, and my bank account was so empty you could hear the echo of my last two nickels knocking against each other for warmth.

Being a follower of rules, I adhered to the strict warning at the top of the homepage where Craigslist’s do’s and don’ts were posted. Most of them made sense - no soliciting, no foul language. But when I read, “using gender specificity in ads can result in a fine of up to $10,000”, I got kind of freaked out.

I wanted a woman to rent my spare room, not a guy. And if I said so I could be sued by some politically correct nimrod who had no understanding that I wasn’t a bigot but rather, a single woman with a single bathroom I preferred not to share with a strange man and the random facial and pubic hairs that would inevitably turn up on the floor, the toilet and the sink; not to mention the drain in the shower!

I was outraged and confused. There were dozens of posts that started with phrases like ‘Gay male looking for a place I can be myself.’ or ‘Hot trannie looking for same to share a house.’ But being a person who’s intimidated by authority and a rule follower, I looked the possibility of being sued for $10,000 by some tool with an ax to grind straight in the eye and decided to play it safe, omitting ‘female preferred’ from my ad.

Naturally, I heard from several guys, most of whom I ignored. I didn’t want to have to explain the bathroom thing over and over, as I rejected man after man. But then, I heard from a guy who sounded OK, and I said I’d be willing to talk. The moment I hit ‘send’ I began to panic: Was I courting disaster? And the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I became with the thought of this guy moving in.

Now, my discomfort didn’t stem from the most obvious reasons you could think of. Like the one where this guy, a total stranger whom I’d met on Craigslist, turns out to be a serial killer who murders me in the middle of the night. Or the one where we’re attracted to each other and have totally hot, non-serial killer sex which makes us painfully uncomfortable the minute it’s over and I have to ask him to move out. And then there’s the having to put up with the stray hairs that are shed by a man I’m not having sex with thing, which probably doesn’t need repeating.

Each of these reasons, as compelling as they are, didn’t even come close to the thing that had given me pause. No. It was a seemingly innocent phrase in his second email: “I’m about to be divorced and I need to find a place to live ASAP!” This scared the crap out of me!

The dude was obviously still living with his soon-to-be ex-wife and things could get really ugly were he to move in. Did I really want to set myself up for even more drama than the daily recommended dose I was already getting without his help? What would his soon-to-be ex-wife think of his moving in with a single woman? Would that make her angry and loaded for bear, even if she did want to divorce him? And would I get caught in the crosshairs of her outrage?

Also, I had no desire to spend my evenings listening to a grown man weeping in the room across the hall. I’d already been through that. And it hadn’t been all that long since my ex-husband, the biggest weeper of all time, had moved out. I need to tell him I’ve changed my mind, I thought. Then I need to grow a pair and add ‘female preferred’ to my ad!

Lucky for me, I didn’t have to put the hurt on my almost roomie, because the moment I’d begun my descent into regret and madness, the would-be-weeper had had a revelation of his own. He wrote again saying he’d realized it would be a mistake for him to even ponder living with a strange woman, despite the purely business-like nature of the relationship. It was weird; like he’d read my mind or something. Or maybe I’d read his.

In the end, it really didn’t matter. Both of us had come to our senses before this coed cohabitation went beyond the confines of our two-dimensional relationship and that no three-dimensional feelings had gotten hurt. But most of all, I was relieved that there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be having hot, non-serial killer sex with a stranger, and I definitely wouldn’t be getting murdered in my sleep any time soon.