If somebody did call, then I figured after talking to me they would try somebody more reputable, but whatever came of it, even if nobody called, I thought it might be something I could write about, a comedic essay—”My Failed Attempt at Being a Private Detective.” Often during my writing career, mostly for my essays, I’ve put myself in weird positions and then milked it for humor. This situation would be like the time I tried to go to an orgy but wasn’t allowed in. Even when nothing happens, you can sometimes make a good story out of it.

Anyway, I got a thrill at posting the ad, but it was a short-lived thrill. For the first day, I would go and look at my ad, admiring my own handiwork, laughing to myself, wondering if something might happen, almost as if I checked it out enough times, other people would. But then, after about a day, the thrill wore off. It was one more ridiculous thing in a ridiculous life, and, of course, no one called.

So I went back to the usual routine—I started a David Goodis novel, Black Friday, and once again I was spending hours playing backgammon. Then on Thursday, April 19, when I was in the midst of a good game, my cell phone rang around four o’clock in the afternoon. The number had an area code I couldn’t immediately place—215. I answered the phone and kept on playing.

“Hello?” I said.

“I saw your ad,” said a girl’s voice.

“What? What ad?” I said. I had forgotten completely about my craigslist posting. It had been six days.

“Craigslist? Missing persons?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry,” I said, quickly rallying, remembering my little experiment. “I was distracted. I’m sorry. And most of my clients are word-of-mouth, so I forgot about my ad on craigslist. How can I help you?”

Right away, I was trying to sound professional, and the lie about the other clients just came to me naturally. I’ve always been a good liar.

“It’s about my sister…” she started to say, then hesitated, and I glanced at my laptop, at the game. If I resigned, which is the same thing as losing and at the moment I was ahead, my ranking would go down, and I hate for my ranking to go down. I’ve worked very hard to get it to the second-highest level. I was momentarily conflicted, but I clicked a button and resigned from the game so that I could give my full attention to this other game, this one with the young-sounding girl on the phone.

“Your sister?” I said, prompting her.