I’ve dealt with some really weird local people on Craigslist
Well, I don’t know about you but I have a ton of weird, useless crap sitting around my house. It’s the kind of stuff that’s either too expensive to sell at a thrift sale or too much of a hassle to list on eBay. Even if I could sell this stuff for a decent price at a thrift sale, I wouldn’t. Having people show up at 6am for a thrift sale that doesn’t start until 8am is not my idea of fun.
What this adds up to is the fact that this stuff had been homeless, living in boxes in the basement, for a very long time. Then someone told me about Craigslist and I discovered there are tons of local people out there looking for my weird, useless crap. And they’ll pay for it! (Even though sometimes they show up and try to pay less than the price you listed or bring along their crap in hopes that you can “barter.”) That aside, the whole concept is awesome!
Well, it’s mostly awesome, anyway. There does seem to be a common denominator between the stuff I’m selling and the people who want to buy it. Both are almost always, without exception, weird.
What do I mean by weird? Pull up a chair, my friends. Let me elaborate.
I listed one of those “nostalgic” record player/CD player/radio combos on Craigslist last year, right before Christmas. A guy responded to the ad and showed up to get it. Yeah. He had mentioned in his email that he was buying this for his brother as a Christmas gift. I knew how I felt about that idea, since I had gotten the record player as a Christmas gift myself. And look what I was doing with it. But I certainly wasn’t mentioning that.
I’m showing this guy how it all works and then I get to the part where I go to play a record. It wouldn’t work. I hadn’t even thought of testing this out because pretty much, I hardly used the thing. I just assumed that nothing could happen to it while it lived in the basement. Wrong. I made some joke about choosing a record with crappy music on it and said I’d try something a little classier. Yeah. The record player didn’t like Mozart, either.
At this point I was pretty sure I was not selling the record player. Wrong again. The guy felt bad for me. He said, “That’s OK. The other stuff works and my brother won’t mind.” I’m thinking, “Who gives someone a record player that doesn’t work?” Again. I wasn’t going to mention that. I did discount the price, but all the same. It was very strange.