Guest post by Farley at TheSevenYearPlan.com
Selling Shit on Craigslist is Hard
Recently, I had a set of golf clubs. I no longer wanted this set of golf clubs. What an affluent white male problem to have, right? Well, after my moisturizing mask, I came up with a plan: Craigslist!
I’d heard about Craigslist before. I mean, people talked about this thing like it was a high end hooker who actually gave you what you paid for, instead of an itch. According to everyone I talked to, you could buy, sell, or trade anything on Craigslist in a matter of seconds. Nanoseconds even, depending on your internet connection.
So I thought ‘hey, I’ll give this a try’. Rather than pawning my sweet, unused clubs off on some low-income cripple, I could get some real ROI (return on investment) from these Dunlops. After all, smiling ‘tard faces don’t put gas in my Miata. So I set up a little photo shoot; just me and the clubs. Soft, neutral lighting, forced perspective…I really got sensual with the four photos they let me post (thanks Craig!). Then, above that, a little paragraph box for descriptions. I was getting more bashful by the minute. My Craigslist post was starting to look a lot like a Match.com profile. I was writing down weights and lengths, doctoring photographs, even arranging for ways for my clubs to get picked up. This Craig fella must be one sexy sonofabitch, to make sporting goods so hot.
Finally, after a full glass of wine and half a Jack Johnson album, I mustered up the courage to open that Craigslist email and ‘POST’ my listing. This is it, I thought, the praise and deliriously maddening responses will start pouring in. I drew a bath, fully expecting my email inbox to be flooded by the time I was done fantasizing about Margaret Thatcher.
Twenty minutes later (I blacked out for two of them), I strolled to my Compaq to discover…nothing. Except another chain email claiming that something special would happen if I forwarded it to nine friends. Poor, silly chain mail. Little does it know I don’t HAVE nine friends; you’ve been sent here on accident, by a wayward coworker, looking to spice up an office relationship. Sorry Frank, I don’t “do” product development.
I waited patiently for the next 1,987,654 nanoseconds. Nothing. Well, stamp me worried and ship me off to Nervoustown.
I waited more. Three days. Five. Seven. Nothing.
Turns out, selling shit on Craigslist is hard. With no reserve bid, no PayPal feature, and thousands of listings, my dream listing has been swallowed up by basic fonts and white backgrounds. I still haven’t sold those clubs, but I have received a lesson that money can’t buy: if a website sounds too good to be true, it just might be.
Unless you’re at www.cuteoverload.com. That site pays dividends.
