Like Tinder for serial killers

We survived. In a city full of meth addicts with mental health problems I ostensibly invited anyone with an internet connection into our home to look at our things. I concede that statement is a little dramatic, but this is basically what Craigslist is all about, if you believe everything that you read on the internet. And I do. So, shit.

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I had been informed by a number of well-spoken, middle class types that we could "donate our unwanted couch to a charity", a statement that is always followed by "its tax deductible" as if I know what the fuck that means. I mean, I know what I'm supposed to do when people say that - you raise your eyebrows, turn down your mouth and nod, silently implying that you hadn't thought of that option, but this news about tax deduction will certainly make a difference to your decision. It would honestly make more sense to me if they said "give me your couch and I'll give you my half-drained Caramel Macchiato". At least I understand the value of the things we're talking about in that statement enough to be able to weigh up the options. Anyhoo, I digress.

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So, needless to say we had no intention of handing our couch over without even a Starbucks in return. Instead, in a vain attempt to recoup some of the cash that we threw at it, we sold it. And where better to sell it than on Craigslist, the match.com of the house-bound, technically-minded psycho-stalker. Why waste your time pounding the street for your next victim when you can select them online and make just one trip with your bloody axe?

It was a solid klippan with a clean beige cover that would have looked very happy in the IKEA showroom, as long as you didn't remove said cover and spot the disturbing mystery stain, made significant worse by my efforts to clean it. So, photos were taken. A description was crafted using my very best pseudo-sales-assistant-ese, and the responses started to drip into my inbox.

I was initially a bit worried about being able to spot the frauds and fakes, but it turns out its suuuuuuuper easy.

"Hi, I am very interested in your IKEA KLIPPAN SOFA, GOOD CONDITION!!! IDEAL COUCH FOR BEDROOM, STUDY OR HALLWAY. Please send me more details. Thank you."

Yeah. Unless there is an automated search bot out there who is looking to furnish his first apartment  with simple and stylish furniture on a budget, I call bullshit on that one. And the five others I got that were nearly identical. I'm still trying to work out what the scam is.

There are also the people who want to beat you down to a fraction of the price. Yeah, no.

That only leaves us with one potentially genuine offer, and I was cacking myself at the arranged hour as I waited for god-knows-what to turn up outside our apartment block to view my wares clutching either a small wad of cash, a meat cleaver, or both.

The old man had already helped me carry the sofa downstairs to the lobby (no need for my crazy new friend to know which apartment we actually inhabit) and I was MIGHTILY relieved to see a clean and normal looking lady approach with a fistful of dollars. I left her waiting for her ride, sitting on her spanking new purchase on the sidewalk. Happy camper.

So relieved was I to have the whole process dealt with that I didn't check the notes until I got back to the apartment and it turns out she snuck a fake one in there, but thats probably Karma for the big fucking stain on the seat.  Meh.

http://gph.is/1ZidoAN