Marketplace madness
Granted, Craigslist is the bat-shit crazy department king of the internet. Lots of freaks, lots of questionable posts. Weird little corners of humanity at its worst. Usually I was just buying furniture.
But CL has faded and Marketplace has taken its place. It’s better run but with some problems are intrinsic to a website selling stuff.
Ghosts. Cruisers. Trolls. Good deals. Quirky personalities.
I’ve been selling a lot of my furniture and stuff on Marketplace. My new place is 200 square-feet smaller and apparently I put a lot of stuff in that space.
Dressers
For some reason I thought I needed three dressers in my bedroom. Two are part of a set, the other was a pretty green with scroll work. No room for it. A man came to pick it up, said it was for baby #4 that was on the way. Price? $25. I let them have it for free.
My beautiful wooden dresser I rescued from a garage in the Pleasant Park area. It was sitting with all of its dusty, antique friends. It had delicate scrollwork and drawers of many sizes. I loved that dresser and it housed my burgeoning yarn collection. At the time I was driving a 2001 Forester. I got that dresser into the back all by myself. The lady who bought it was a mess. Had to change times, issues and a divorce that’s eating up her energy and focus. Case in point: she brought an Isuzu SUV and no one to help her load it. We had to ‘Jenga’ it a little bit. Price? $100. I let her have it for free.
Freedom Table
I sold my Freedom Table to a couple with a three-month old baby who was unhappy about the drive from Colorado Springs to Conifer. Note: the Freedom Table has nothing to do with politics.
Four months post-separation from my ex, I’d received proof that he indeed did have another family. On that day, I did a pivot. Over the 27 years, my ex, he’d come and go. break-up, make-up, blah, blah, blah. It changes you. Or maybe it weighs you down. Not sure which. We had purchased a dining table for six. A perfect size for our growing family. We had lots of fun times and great meals at that table. Birthday parties, holidays, anniversary dinners, the things that mark the passage of time.
I hated that dirty, ugly table with its stained chairs and poor construction and that fact that his fat ass had sat at the table and pretended like we were the only family he had.
Something snapped in me. I opened the sliding glass door, the screen door, picked up the closest chair and heaved it out the opened door. The other five chairs followed in its wake. About halfway through my oldest daughter came upstairs nonchalantly eating a Yoplait and asked if I needed any help. I declined. I was on a mission from God. She shrugged and returned to her Yoplait.
I wrenched over the table onto its side and drug it out the sliding glass door, down the two concrete steps, past the chair wreckage and pulled it down the driveway. Treating it with the same respect my marriage got. I piled it all at the curb.
I went inside feeling much better. A half hour later a lady knocked on the door and asked if she could have the set. I pointed out that it was in rough shape and she didn’t care. Her husband was a carpenter and they needed a bigger table. One man’s trash, another man’s treasure.
A few hours later I asked my daughter if she wanted to go to Oak Express because it was Memorial Day Weekend and they were having a 50% off sale. I bought a round table with a beautiful starburst design, extension and four chairs. I called a friend and asked her to bring her truck so we could haul it home. Took her 10 minutes to get there and the three of us brought the Freedom Table into the house. A table and chair set that his fat ass never sat on.
The problem is the finish on the had begun to wear off. More like abandoning its post revealing not the dark wood but the natural wood underneath. The couple wasn’t worried, she refinished projects all the time. They rigged the ensemble onto a truck and drove off back to the Springs. The Price? $25. I let them have it for free.
The cabinet that held Jason Momoa’s photo on it
I have a lot of family pictures and the one with Norian and Jason Momoa has a prominent place in the family photo line-up. I sold that cabinet to a nice couple who wanted it for their garage. It was a little wobbly but he was confident he could make it more sturdy. I didn’t part with the photo of Jason Momoa, though. The price? $25. I let them have it for free.
Broken Man, broken glass
There’s a necklace people want to buy when they spent time at my former job. The marketing idea behind is rather brilliant. Broken but not destroyed. It’s well made and kind of a status. Someone gave it to me when I retired. I don’t wear jewelry so I put it up on Marketplace. Nobody was interested so I put it into the ARC box.
I have always been the entertainer. Everyone came to my house. I had ALL the trappings. Plates, bowls, whiskey sipping glasses, and assortment of crystal including a Princess House crystal pitcher. I gave most of it to ARC.
But I found a box of 8 Libbey 18-oz tumblers. The box was pristine but it was missing one glass. I put in a listing for a box of 7 Libbey 18-oz tumblers for $1. I just wanted to get rid of it. One lady sent a message asking if the glasses were $1 each or $1 for the entire box. The listing was clear. I couldn’t have been more clear. I could’ve made a venn diagram and she still would’ve asked that question. It irritated me. I asked her if she stupid or something. She called me old. We blocked each other. I took the pristine box of glasses to ARC.
Troll
I was going to sell a small table that has an attached lamp. Jill gave it to me years ago and I’ve used it. Not sure I needed it. So I posted it. A guy messaged me. Can you take a couple more pictures? Sure. Four hours later, could you take a picture of the wood slats? Sure. Four hours later he wanted a picture of the glass top. Were there any cracks? Grudgingly I sent a picture. At 2 a.m. he messaged me and asked what kind of light bulbs it used. I told him to fuck off and blocked him. I keeping the table.
Under the Troll heading are also people who set an appointment and don’t show. Or they can’t make the appointment but don’t let you know until a half hour AFTER they were supposed to show. They beg for a reschedule. I tell them one more chance but I have other people waiting.
I loved my hutch
Man, that thing was great for storage, display my Red Rose Tea figurines, my tea pots, the little tchotchkes that I collected as old people do. A white vase that a co-worker gave me, a blue teapost hand-carried by my daughter from London, the bluebird butter dish and lots and lots of baking items.
The young couple drove all the way from Silverthorne. They were on time, pleasant and they loved the glass knobs and the beveled glass. The hutch was in two pieces, the top and bottom. They were so excited to take it home because she too had her glasses and tchotchkes to display. The price? $25. I have them to it for free.
Alien Bees buzz off
I used to be a photographer, a photojournalist. They never tell you that if you’re a photojournalist you need a side hustle. Weddings (yuck), sports photos, graduation pics, pet portraits, food and real estate staging. I had a studio set-up. I did a lot or work with the Bees.
Alien Bees are a lighting set-up complete with black and silver umbrellas, triggers, stands, cords and a model light. Link all the to your camera and the camera talks to the lights through the triggers and hey, presto, a well-lit image. The B800 was the most powerful at the time. They ended up sitting in my camera cabinet gathering dust. A young man answered the ad and agreed to meet me at Natural Grocers in Conifer because after all, it was Friday Knitting Club. We met, chatted and went through all the equipment for a check. He texted me a few hours later to tell me the set-up works perfectly and the Bees will help him increase his bank account. The price? $50.
I still have things to sell. I have appointments with four people tomorrow. One person asked if I could deliver the large item I’ve got for sale. Yah. No.
