Admittedly, I have too much stuff, and in my attempt to
I have a canoe. It's a classic. A vintage 17-foot aluminum, shallow keel, double ender Grumman. If canoeing is your thing, I'll give you a moment to catch your breath. Yes, she's a beauty!
Sadly, I haven't used the poor dear but maybe a half dozen times in the ten years since my parents gave her to me. She's been languishing, so it's time to find her a home where someone will love her and put her back in the water. I posted her on eBay a while back but didn't get any bidders so I thought I'd widen the net. I posted a "for sale by owner" ad on Craigslist. Within a day, the weirdo e-mails started piling up in my inbox.
This is my favorite, from Edmond: "...would you be interested in any trades. I have a variety of hunting rifles, all with scopes. All in pristine shape. I would meet you in a public place...I will have cash..." I love the "I will have cash" part. Is it just me, or does this sound like a really really stupid idea?
After answering a dozen inquiries from local nut-jobs, and ignoring a couple dozen more because I couldn't even read them, I got what I thought was a serious inquiry from someone in Murfreesboro. He was a little hesitant with my terms. I was a little hesitant with his. But I thought we came to a mutually acceptable agreement on how the transaction would be executed. I worked up an invoice via Paypal with the agreement that if the canoe didn't meet his expectations he could cancel the payment on the spot and be protected by Paypal's rules, etc. I hit "send" and waited.
(Here's where I begin the rant...just in case you were wondering and getting a little disappointed.) In one of his earlier 17+ e-mails he said that he was in a rush because he needed it for the weekend. In another he tells me he'd prefer to pay cash. In another he mentioned that he's a dad with two boys who want a canoe. In another he asked if I'd come down on the price. (New, this canoe would run over $1100 and I'm throwing in three paddles and two cushions.) He also contacted me through eBay and told me he'd been researching
stalking me and my sales feedback.
Ignoring all the "this guy is kind of creepy" feelings, I e-mailed him today asking if he was still interested.
Wouldn't you know it, but today he's "leery" of using Paypal even though he says he has a Paypal account and has used it to make numerous eBay transactions. Why would he be leery of the protection that Paypal offers versus the NO protection of a cash transaction?
He wants the address so he can see the canoe. No. I need some sort of refundable deposit so I know this is serious rather than a freak who is going to show up in the middle of the night, chop me into pieces, stick me in the bow of my own canoe and paddle off down the Cumberland River.
When I disagree to his newly stated terms he sends me TWO e-mails outlining how to identify scammers on Craigslist. And to make sure he gets his point across, he uses big bold highlighted words. The slow burn starts. (Remember the "Thing" about Walmart?) My neck starts to get warm and tingly. I can feel my cheeks getting warm. With shaking fingers, I compose a response politely explaining to him that I'm offended by his insinuation that I'm a scammer, especially after he had checked out all my feedback on eBay. I thank him for his time, express my disappointment, tell him that my boyfriend, son and friends are uncomfortable with my Craigslist transactions anyway, sign it Christine, and hit "send." I hate to play the gender card, but he needed to know that he's dealing with a woman, and that he will (obviously) ultimately lose.
Seconds after send, I get an e-mail from Craigslist informing me that my ad was just flagged for rules violation and deleted. Son. Of. A. Bitch.
That slow burn I mentioned? Well, dude just poured gas on it. For a fleeting moment I consider contacting Edmond to discuss how soon we can meet to do the hunting rifle (with scope) trade. This guy is about to get both barrels. (Do rifles have two barrels? I forget.) That moment passes and I compose another
passive aggressive and sarcastic slightly less polite e-mail. Ok, at this point, one tiny part of my brain is telling me to back off, calm down and ignore him. Well, screw that tiny part of my brain. I'm ticked and I'm shaking.
My e-mail: Thank you for flagging my Craigslist ad and having it removed. You saved me the time to log in and delete it myself.
His response: Sorry I did flag your ad forgot to put that in last email.
I'm so mad my mouth is like the Sahara Desert and I know my breath is bad. Bad breath mad is pretty mad. A couple more minutes pass and, wouldn't you know it, here comes another e-mail. I nearly delete it, but I see it's in response to my e-mail signed Christine.
I can almost hear the screeching of brakes, the back-pedaling, the "oh crap I just poked a mama bear." He's a good husband. He's a father of two. He's a Christian. He's cautious. He's sad that we live in a world where people hesitate to trust one another. He would worry if his wife were meeting people to buy/sell things on Craigslist. He really wants to buy the canoe. Asks me to please call him at work. He works at a morgue.
DUDE! A morgue? Seriously? Not just no, but HELL NO! And he suggests we meet at a gas station or a restaurant to discuss the sale. But it will be safe because he'll have his sons with him. Oh, sure! Sounds like a real party. And after I agree to meet him and his sons, I'll neglect to tell anyone where I'm going, I'll let my cell phone run out of battery, and while I'm at it I'll wear inappropriate shoes. Someone call CBS, I have a great idea for the next episode of "Criminal Minds".
I'm shutting down this freak show. No more Craigslist. (Are you with me, LeAnn?)
It could very well happen that the guy I've just ranted about will stumble across this blog post at some point because he's stalking the internet for
future morgue candidates Grumman canoes. So, "Mr. P", if you're reading this, please understand that this blog is my way of blowing off steam and you got me pretty steamed. No hard feelings, ok? By the way, there's only guy who ticked me off more: Harris Teeter at 11pm and I'm trying to pay for an ungodly amount of feminine products when the checkout guy asks me if I'm having a good night. Sorry Mr. P, but you're number two. (I kill me)