ADVENTURES IN KIJIJI

When I was in my basement last month, something made me take an uncharacteristically objective look at it. I am usually a head in the sand sort of gal. Staring at the boxes around me, I began to feel as if I were in familiar territory. It reminded me of something. Something. What was it?
Then it hit me. I felt as I were the star of an episode of HOARDERS. Upstairs, I pretend to lead a civilized life. But my basement is a shameful reminder of how low a person can sink, once they just start throwing boxes and papers and doodads and old toys and records and menus from favourite restaurants and mismatched curtains bought at a clearance table around.

Such was my shame at this new view of my clutter, that I decided to book at a table at the flea market, pronto. HA. Silly me. There is a waiting list of people eager to rise at 5 a.m., and haul 20 boxes of junk to a big, noisy room so that they can be insulted and harassed by strangers who want to pay twenty five cents for a twenty five dollar item. (I have worked the flea market in my youth.)

Luckily, I then discovered Kijiji (which apparently means ‘village’ in Swahili), the online buy and selling site. What’s not to like? I don’t have to get in the middle of the night. I don’t have to lug heavy old boxes. And I can sort of keep to myself.

I promised myself that I would list an average of three items a day on Kijiji. I taught myself how to transfer the photos from my little Canon to the computer (a major achievement for a Luddite) and have now managed to post over 100 ads.

So far, so good. A number of charming, interesting, and on occasion, somewhat unusual people have shown up at my door. I have started to keep a journal of my Kijiji people. I think I might get a book out of it. (After I finish the next three books that I am already committed to with publishers.) And I have cleared a little path in my basement.

However, I do notice that Kijiji, which relies heavily on email contact, seems to invite a lot of people who have never learned basic manners. And by manners, I mean consideration of others. I think the anonymity of email gives some people the feeling of carte blanche regarding keeping their word. I find it sort of rude when a person says, “I will be there at noon” and then you never hear from them again. Okay, maybe they were eaten up by a tornado. But surely just before the funnel swallowed them, they could have sent me a text???

I was also bewildered by a man who showed up with two toddlers to look over the old tools in my garage. I realize now the toddlers were just a ruse, and that he had probably rented them from the nearest day care, hoping to pull the wool over my eyes. Which he did. I thought he must be decent. He has cute children. He works for a government agency, for pete’s sake. I should have shown him the door when he started pulling open drawers without my permission, and then, when he manipulated his way into my basement, grabbing tools right and left (which I had told him had sentimental value and were not for sale). I told myself that somebody this desperate, obnoxious and disrespectful would surely pay big bucks for the privilege of buying from me. HA. He beat me down to a minimal amount for what he took, conveniently forgetting that he had pocketed three 1950s tape measures, until I sweetly reminded him.
All this was a lesson to me. There are delightful, lovely people one can meet, selling on Kijiji. And then there are the boors and borderline criminals. I just hope those little kiddies recover from the experience of spending the day with a crook and that their real parents can undo the harm.

The plus side, for me, of course, is that this gives me another murder victim in the next Lulu Malone mystery. Now that should be FUN!!!!!!