No good deed goes unpunished, so they say. I recently advertised our old buggy on a local selling site. The “local” area is really local – covers about a quarter of a square mile. As the buggy’s brakes were a bit sticky, and it had seen better days, I advertised it for free, thinking I could do a neighbour a favour.
And so the drama started.
“What’s your address?” the first person asked. I didn’t divulge it but let them know which part of the (small) estate we were on. “Soz, too far,” was the reply.
Another punter also wanted to know the address, and agreed a time for collection. Then the questions started. “Does it recline?”
I was out and about with YoungestGirl, up to my elbows in the destroyed remains of her Pret sandwich, trying to pick bits off the floor so the staff didn’t hate me, and trying to breastfeed whilst wearing a jumper which exposed pretty much my entire stomach. The lady didn’t catch me in the best mood.
“Does it fold up small?” Unsure what she meant by small and – remembering that I was gaining literally nothing from this transaction, I was unwilling to enter into a conversation about the relative merits of the free buggy. I reminded her (as per the original advert) of the make and model of the buggy and suggested she googled it.
“Why? Have you never folded it up? Never mind, you can show me when I come to collect it.”
She then messaged me twice, firstly to tell me she was going to be late, and then – astonishingly – to ask me if I’d meet her 20 minutes away, as she’d already walked quite a long way. Why yes, of course I would love to put my baby in a buggy, walk for twenty minutes, presumably pushing the empty buggy beside me, and then give it to you for free. I have literally nothing better to do. I said no, sorry, I was getting dinner ready.
She then messaged me six (count them) times for directions, including the very memorable, “I am near number 66, where are you?”.
I reminded her our house number is number 64 (again). She said, “Yeah, where are you compared to 66?”
By the time she actually arrived, I was expecting a harridan from hell, and was practically preparing to have bricks put through the windows. Turns out she was a really sweet, very polite and grateful girl, who apologised lots for the trouble and the questions. It was very odd; she was totally different in person.
Still, next time I think I’ll just take unwanted items to the charity shop. Though I guess I got a blog out of it, so all is not lost.