Part 1: The Craigslist Debacle

     The engine rumbles, awaking from its rest, and out of the lot I go. Just got off work. Another day of fake respect to those tourists who make their way to our hometown checked off my list. It’s time to rest. As I pull out of the lot I turn on the radio and listen to Josh Turner helping me forget about the past eleven hours. It feels great. But change happens rapidly, and my phone rings. I look at the caller ID, wondering who is calling. I answer the phone, “Hello…?”
     A man answers, “Yea, I was wondering if you still had that 4-runner?”

     I think about it for a second and answer, “Yea…”

     He continues, “How many miles are on it?”

     At this point I’m thinking to myself, “What the hell is going on?”

     He receives an unexpected answer, “Wait, why do you want to know my mileage?”

     I couldn’t have been less ready for his answer, “Because I want to know how many miles are on it before I buy it.”

     My reply, “My car is NOT for sale.” Silence fills what once had been exploding with country music.
     His voice turns quiet, “Ohhhh, well, somebody’s playing a trick on you. Your car is posted for sale on Craigslist. And they put it on there for really cheap too. $2500. Says you must sell quick and that you’re leaving town. So, you’re probably gonna be getting a bunch of phone calls here real soon. It was posted five minutes ago.”

     More silence. At first I don’t know what to think. Then I’m irritated. I say, “$2500!? My car is worth at least $11,000. Goddamn it. Thanks for the info.”
     He says, “No problem man, good luck.”

     “Yea, this is going to suck,” I exclaim. Driving down the road I crack a smile, and think about how funny of a joke this is. It’s pretty funny, and it’s original. I think out loud, “Good one, That’s a pretty good prank.”

     Immediately I call my roommate, who has been known for playing pranks on me in the past, “Ring…Ring…Hello?”

     “Chris, are you playing a prank on me? I’m serious. I need to know right now if you are,” I drill him.

     He responds, “No, I’m not. What’s going on?”

     I explain the situation. He starts laughing and says, “Hold on a sec, I’m gonna look it up.” Sure as hell, it was right there. “Oh my god, Tom, it’s here. And this person either really hates you, or really likes fucking with people. There’s a picture of your car on here, and it says that you work late hours, so call between 12am and 8am.”

     “Obviously nobody cares about those hours, I’m still getting phone calls and its only five-thirty. I’ll be there soon, just leave the page open. I want to see it,” I say. “Shit, someone else is calling, I gotta go.”