An amazing couple of days of sales. Yesterday, someone inquiring about a couple of old Timex watches I had listed for a couple of bucks apiece. Broken, decrepit, but sometimes it's just a lure.
He's texting me, he's coming over, I don't know who or for what by now, people do this all the time - maybe not a great idea to put your phone # on Kijiji, but I'm almost done...
So he comes over, he's here for the Timex's (I discover), sure thing, I get him my bucket of junk watches. He's excited, nervous, Asian, my age, and he's loving the little bucket of junk. "How much for this...? For this...?"and he's building a pile...he asks me if I have any other watches for sale. Oh-yeah. Get the chest out, get another box...now he's shaking...can't control his excitement, and I'm having to wing prices on the fly, erring generally a little high but probably still cheap for the market...beautiful gold bracelet Bulova, saving for the daughter, "$150.00" I tell him, it's not for sale, the price is reasonable, but sometimes a reasonable price is all it takes. Now he's going through the junk ladies watches - "not worth repairing", a ticket from my jeweler on every one, but he's still asking the price, even after I tell him - "Ten dollars...it's gold filled..." and he adds it to his pile, ever growing with junk watches I didn't have a clue as to what I was going to do with. Another watch, "Thousand dollars", it's a good watch, I have a few, "Too much, too much I must have expensive taste" he tells me. keeps rooting. This goes on for 10 minutes, he hasn't time to look at them all, and in the end he's picked 1 good watch, ($100) and a pile of junk for $225. I'm amazed. "Are you sure...?" I ask him, he's sure, pleased as punch...
Then a beanpot full of pennies. $20.00. Probably worth that if you rolled them all, but who's gonna bother? Good to see it go.
Then, to the locker, more shit, but the end is nigh, so close...sort and organize the apartment, impossible, but get it under control, I'm losing track of all the shit I have for sale, there isn't a foot to move...
Take advantage of the weather, get out, pass out some resumes.
Then back. Some more sales. 1 man for a tripod, he's nice, texted he was walking down, I know him, not him personally, but the personality, and a minute or 2 later I realize that he's probably just a single degree of separation from the Drumheller crew I used to know, he pays, no dickering, we chat, he collects candlesticks, "Really?" I ask, this must be an old bachelor thing, I direct him to my pile of 8 boxes filled to the brim...but he's on a budget and knows better, a wise guy, one of us has gotta be. 2 Sewing machines, my longest running listing - finally, gone. And another guy comes round to look at all the free dinosaur bones & Kootenay quartz crystals, Polish fellow, fills a bag, we chat, me on my Kieslowski kick and all but he's never watched him...
A dozen boxes left in the locker. Only a dozen. And some big pieces of furniture and some loose books, and a pile of rocks. Big pile of rocks. And - oddly, everything seems to be selling. It takes time, but it all is finding it's new forever home.
I'm starting to resent selling things too soon, want them to hang around and reach "critical mass", I mean, these ads, they're not just ads, I got something to say and this is how I'm doing it...
Then there's the lowballing. The emails, the X-Ray Machine, "it's in poor condition and needs some TLC" and you have to laugh - it's actually in great condition and what, were you planning on restoring and randomly X-Raying people? Bloody hell. Reply that I offer discounts only to Registered Medical X-Ray Technicians, bring me your diploma and I'll cut you a deal. Other enquiries. It's as if they wait until the end of the month to lowball you, trust that you're in financially desperate straights and you'll pay everyone to take your shit, they'd still dicker with you...
But this is good. I'm learning to say PFO, draw reasonable boundaries, - "Don't touch me there!!", which is going to come in handy, especially if I ever have to work in restaurants again. This Kijiji thing - to do it right, you need a burner phone and address.
Put stuff away. Hang paintings in the bedroom because there's no place in the living room. Milansterpieces, I didn't realize I had so many, I'll have to go to Edmonton and visit him, it's been a couple of years.
Today, a new day, someone picks up a music stand. And a crock pot. I liked the crock pot but it looks like it's going to a good home. And then there's "Dave".
There's always one. He wants the tripod, dickered me down, 35% off just for him, it was a $300 tripod and I was asking $30, but - let it go. And I say "Sure" and then I say "But it's first come first serve. The first person to show up takes it away." This is a caution. And I tell him - like everyone - to text me first before he comes to ensure I'm in and I still have the product they're looking for. I've "sold" this tripod 4 times and it's still in my possession. I've had too many people put things on hold and then forget to claim them - which is a pain in the ass, wastes my time and costs me money in potential sales that have been missed. You don't have to be on Kijiji long to figure out that for every 4 enquiries you're lucky to get a single sale.
Today, he sends me an email. He's on his way. From Cochrane. And I respond 8 minutes after the email - fine, but the tripods gone. Sold yesterday. For asking price - but I don't say that, because it makes me seem like a dick. He's not worried about seeming like a dick though, and I get a barrage of texts from him - why didn't I tell him? I reply that I asked him to text me first and confirm, and that I warned him - explicitly in no uncertain terms - that it's first-come, first-serve, but he's having none of it, a dozen petulant text messages, like from a child, he's pissed off, I'm rude, I just wasted 90 minutes of his time (??) driving in from Cochrane, etc, etc. He keeps texting me, how am I going to make it up to him, "Dave", "Dave" Dave...
I Google him. Minor Cochrane celebrity, he's got a website. That's all it takes out there. He's a photographer, so he knows the value of things. And - I'm thinking - 1 degree of separation from the old Cochrane crew - if that. But he's an entitled asshole, and reminds me of another photographer I met once in London at the eatery I worked. We had a policy - no photography of the outside Neon - copyright, and as Manager I had to enforce it and politely refer photographers to head office to get permission. This photographer, he's having none of it, ignoring me, I have to physically block the shot, then he gets irate. Starts swearing at me, calling me names, I'm a limp-dicked idiot getting off on bullying creative professionals like him...
The British, they got "Asshole" locked down. And you endure it for a bit, then you simply correct him with the fact that your not 40 years old, pot-bellied and balding carrying around a big camera to impress people. As bad as things are you he's managed to reassure you things could be worse. A slight dose - strongly diluted, of his own medicine cures him, he begins to wheedle, leaves promising to contact Head Office.
Of course I hear from Head Office, he'd filed a complaint against my "bullying" him, not true, and I had a restaurant full of employees to back me up - but - the attitude - the same. Dave reminded me of him. I should have taken the opportunity to upsell him, Dave didn't need another tripod, he needs a Banana Pump...