I open the bag and while there was an adorable outfit and a sleeper in there for my daughter (who is 17 months old), both smelled as though the previous occupier had been partying all night in a nightclub, circa 1990 – when smoking was still legal inside and everyone was doing it.
What the fuckity-fuck-fuck?
Seriously? Ew. I had a passerby do a quick rendering of me, shortly after I opened the aforementioned shopping bag. I have it right here, just let me dust it off
I belong to a group of local Keswick and Sutton’esque people who buy and sell stuff via a closed group on Facebook. I’ve sold some stuff, which was great, I’ve bought a couple of things and now I know why I have held back (aside from beating up my inner-Hoarder). It’s because people tend to ‘forget’ to mention things that are perfectly normal in their lives, homes, days. It may be normal for her kids to smell like an ashtray, but it is not normal for mine to. Not judging, just saying.
If the shit you’re selling smells like your dog’s ass, or cat’s litter box or husband’s cigar – just be a dear mention it in the ad, please. I may still give you my money for it, but at least I will have been able to manage my expectations just a little bit better and not feel the big let-down instead of the purchasing ‘high.’ Oh, I’ll still buy stuff on occasion. I’ll sell more than I buy though, I have enough stuff to fill a warehouse, I don’t need one more candle holder, thankyouverymuch. But, overall the convenienceof using Facebook as an avenue to sell my kids used crap I would have normally thrown out, donated or stored somewhere in my house definitely is worth the cluster fuck of dramas that occur regularly between members, occasional disappointments and not as described baby sleepers – or actually as described but poorly described may be more accurate.
Maybe I’ll just start bustifying people on here when I get unpleasant surprises from now on.
I gotta get me a spy camera (or at least a cell phone with a camera in it, my Rebel is the BEST, but hardly inconspicuous, ya know?
This has been today’s edition of the Keswick Blog, on this Bacardi-deprived, sunny afternoon and I remain sincerely yours,
Honey B.