Sunday, March 11, 2007

My problem with eBay

I have a simple problem with eBay. I find it utterly addictive. Every time I take a look I think 5 mins is all it'll take and before I know it at least an hour has gone by. Who buy this stuff? Even weirder, who sells it and how do they find the time? This time, on my travels, with the aim of buying the most surprising thing I could find I stumbled across several strange things. My first idea was to look for some genuine flotsam and jetsam - thought it might be fun to have some real stuff rather than just pictures. Sadly, no stray trainers, toothbrushes or bath ducks, only lots of 'naturally beautiful driftwood, ideal for an alternative sculpture (?!). The theme of the sea led me on to what I think is my favourite item so far. This, rather wonder pink sea cucumber - A perky little thing and a bargain at only £4.99. I was sorely tempted but the postage was extortionate and I expect it might not have survived long post transit. So, I carried on looking and given that I seem to have been plagued by bad luck recently (camera got nicked, favourite t-shirt went grey in the wash, two parking tickets in short succession...) I thought a lucky charm or two might be in order. I found two candidates: the first, 'my super luck burgundy sock' which, from the description sounded ideal: this sock has helped me through many foreign dilemmas including being my only friend whilst I was being held semi hostage on a train in Vietnam by a strange man with an umbrella. But somewhat disappointingly, there was NO PICTURE. How could I be sure that the description was accurate? Much more satisfactory was this 'Amazing lucky sock. Weird sock with the gift of luck.' Good picture, detailed description well worth a read, and clearly a highly trusted seller. So, I bid of £4 - generous I thought given a starting bid of less than a £1 and who else would want such a thing? Well, 23 to be precise, and 29 questions and £8 later it sold, but not to me. How, HOW can someone sell one sock with a hole in it for £8? Fortunately, I wasn't entirely reliant on winning the Amazing Lucky Sock. Only a few clicks away was this: The Amazing Pube-free Lucky Tumble Dryer Fluff. This time I was successful and it only cost me £1. Now all I have to do is wait to experience its 'strange, deep mystical powers'.

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