craigslist nation

All the shims, spit and positive mental energy in the world were not going to help the entertainment center. It didn't fare well in the move(s) and, upon arrival in Georgia, listed to one side. It looked sad and out-of-place.

Let's face it. I have never had good luck with entertainment centers.

Who needs an entertainment center anyway? I need more bookshelves. So in preparation for a new "media shelving and storage unit," to be delivered next week, the current specimen had to go. It's 5 feet long and a beast to move. The carpool was consulted and they had one work: Craigslist.

I posted a picture and was honest about the furniture's shortcomings. I had 37 responses. Are you serious? Thirty-seven. This seemed like a brilliant plan until I realized a stranger would be coming into my house. I'm pretty skittish about that. The carpool was consulted and they devised a plan: someone would call and/or come by about the same time as the successful Craigslist respondent (or as I like to call him "#1 of 37"). I thought this was very sweet.

I'm not a very helpless kind of gal — well, compared to KNS and DMJ I'm nearly an invalid, they are like Wonder Women — but I took them up on that offer. I just had scary visions of someone casing the joint, knocking me out and stealing all my piles of magazines. My heroes made the call about 3 minutes after #1 of 37 departed with the sagging entertainment center, but it was a kind gesture nonetheless. And he turned to be a very nice young dad, who was not put off by the curious degree of the entertainment center or its rickety shelving. He drove 40 miles to collect it. He said that he can look at a Craigslist ad and see beyond that grainy photo, with a vision of what that dubious piece of crap could become. And he assured me that the entertainment center is going to a good home.

Godspeed, old entertainment center. Good luck, #1 of 37. Oh, and #2 through 37, don't lose hope. With my track record, the new shelving unit might be yours sooner rather than later.