Dear Craigslist Potential Purchaser of My Brand-New Size 8 Purple Classic Cardy Ugg Boots,
Um, where to even start?
I have a wishbone to pick with you.
[It’s a wishbone and not a regular bone because I really wish that you would take things between us a little more seriously. So along with my grievance, I am also sending some well-intentioned hope and goodwill that we can come to a place of mutual understanding.]
When you decided that you wanted my impulsively-bought purple corduroy Ugg boots which I put up for sale solely on the basis that I did not want to be rocking yarn legs for the summer plus I did not know they were made with sheepskin, just how urgent exactly was your desire for them?
At the time, I thought you were for real. Yeah, that’s right, for real.
I offered the boots at half off the sale price at which I originally bought them. Already a serious bargain. You offered me your genuine interest in owning said boots and 80 percent of my selling price. This is not a word or logic problem. It’s just the facts. As far as I could tell, the boots were as good as yours.
Except something went awry, didn’t it?
Oh, I don’t know.
How about that you never responded when I asked for a good time and location to make the exchange? You just somehow expected the boots to magically teleport into your possession and my wallet to simultaneously fill with chump change.
Then, a few days later, apropos of nothing, you wrote me again asking if I still had the boots and quoting a price even lower than your first price and offering a location for the drop-off.
Scare tactic or just plain gumption?
Sadly, I still had them as you were the only person who expressed any interest in purchasing winter boots in the summertime to begin with. I did appreciate that about you. We did share that quality.
Then the gears ground to a halt once more because I agreed again quite naively, asked for your original offer, and put forth an acceptable time frame and place. Again, you did not respond.
If anybody would believe it because I can’t at this point, about three weeks later, you wrote me again asking about the boots. This time, it was like I had won a little of your trust. You not only gave a location, consistent price, and date for the exchange, you also went ahead and gave me a time block.
Aha! The wary stray pup is finally eating right out of my hand.
But alas, I got too confident. I put the boots in the trunk of my car and expected the best possible outcome.
But when push came to shove, you just couldn’t deliver, could you?
I had the boots, the time frame, the location, the vehicle, and the date in aligned harmony. All that was left was an exact time for the physical exchange of goods for money.
But you, you left me hanging! You let those poor woven feet-n-calf-clingers melt in the back of my car.
It was all over as far as I was concerned.
It is like a frustrating and lonely game of Whack-a-Mole, in fact.photo courtesy of Flickr and CarbonNYC
And now, two months later, the coup de grace, you write me again just to “check in if I still have these boots! Let me know! Thanks!”?!?!
As if it’s no big deal! Dishonoring everything that has already happened between us! What do you take me for? Probably the guileless naif that I am, but camman.
As far as I can tell, the sacred vendor-seller covenant has been violated not one, but copious times, with your dubious behavior. Please desist with your tomfoolery and pull-over-eyes-woolery!
In fact, I think the boots leave all that is left to be said, plain and simple: Ugg.
I just want a clean break.
Sheepishly & Anonymously,