Triscuit finale! (1)

Let me start off by saying this story has nothing to do with Triscuits, it never did. Have you ever heard of the how-you-say red herring? After Joanna moved in (ooh, foreshadowing!), we were on the porch coming up with creative Craigslist postings. Our favorite was 'Triscuit-friendly, no snipers.' But because Cupcake got so obsessed with the mention of Triscuits, I've let it ride. Now let's get down to the business at hand.

When I left off, we had just been royally screwed by the flakiest punkrock synchronized swimmer I've ever met. (If you're thinking right now, "How many punkrock synchronized swimmers have you met, Jesse?", that means you're boring. Sorry.)

I felt despondent, unwilling to put up another Craigslist ad, only to have our innocent hopes dashed on the salty shores of Somerville. Finally, with a little liquid encouragement, I summoned up the will to post a lackluster ad late on a Tuesday night.

Within an hour, I had two responses. One of them, from a chappie named Daniel, was supah wicked good. He put his qualities in list form, including:
-good cook (used to work in restaurants)
-never been on punk rock synchronized swim team
-not allergic to cats
-have a subscription to the new yorker (which i guess
could be a con if you don't like that magazine)
tell good stories (some made up)
-know the real rules to charades
-won't get up really early on the weekends and clomp
around
-have an identical twin brother (not sure why this is a
pro, but who knows.)
Editor's note: parenthetical comments are his, not mine

So I was sold on this guy, for all the above reasons. Not to mention that I have a surplus of female friends in Boston and could use a bit more testosterone in my life. You know, late night Greco-Roman wrestling matches, snapping each other with towels, all the things real men do. I immediately sent Daniel an upbeat and witty reply. I mentioned hobby horses.

Then I got an e-mail from a young lady named Joanna. Hers was more boring but still had decent vibes. Excerpt:
I suppose I should say that I am 25, I just moved back from France after teaching English to children there for far too long, and am moving to Boston. I have a cat from France who is in culture shock, but is terribly charming otherwise.

By the next morning, the ante was upped. I had received an email from Joanna, who had done a little MySpace research. Turns out she was a buddy of one Beth Mullin, who puts a piece of herself in every little corner of the Internet.

Shit Daniel, how you gonna top that? To find out, tune in tomorrow...

(If you're mad I didn't just finish the story now, please address your angry emails to jerks@blogger.com)