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Hypothesis: Materials: Method: Nervous, I e-mailed my friend the Craigslist prostitute to ask for advice. He suggested I check out what other people were posting, make up a story about how I'm an impoverished college girl (not far off — I'm an impoverished journalist), and maybe start out asking for $100 per pair, adjusting the price up or down depending on people's response. So I set up an e-mail account under the name "Janey Didit" and posted the following: "I'm a college girl who just started school in the city and really need some cash for books and stuff. I have a bunch of panties I don't need any more — some are super-cute, some are kind of old! It's $25 for the not-so-nice pairs, but I have some more expensive lacy stuff too. Serious inquiries only please!" The e-mails started coming in, but not a lot of them wanted my panties. More common were responses like, "I'm not interested in buying panties, but do you like to have your feet worshipped?" The few who did ask for underwear all wanted something more: pictures. They got a standard response: "Hey, I don't have pics of me in the panties, but here's a shot for you. If you'd like, I can meet you in a cafe wearing the panties (tell me what kind you like) and then go to the bathroom, come out and discreetly give them too you. $100." Attached was the above picture. Some guys responded asking for more pictures of me, and I was ecstatic. They didn't even question the $100 asking price! But when I said no pictures of my face and no pictures of me in the panties, the responses dried up. And when I started getting more responses complaining that my asking price was too high, I started to suspect that the men agreeing to $100 just wanted to get pictures of me in my underwear for free. This was the sketchiness I was hoping to avoid, but I was desperate for a sale. I had posted my first ad nearly a week ago, my asking price had dropped from $100 to $40, but still no takers. I didn't like this kind of bartering. Not only do I suck at negotiating, but it was making me feel like a whore after all. I'd envisioned a wallet full of Benjamins and a drawer of new panties. I hadn't envisioned myself — and I'm cringing as I write this — making extravagant promises about how "juicy" my panties were. I was selling myself. It felt gross. I got very close to forgetting the whole thing. Then I got an e-mail from Kris, who in a very polite and brief e-mail assured me, "I have done this a bunch of times, so I know how to handle myself and the women always leave happy." Finally! |
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