The 145% delivery
Some of the things I sold on ebay were rather bulky and I thus had requested a pick up from the buyer.
This was also true for the hifi furniture which sold for a pitiful 17,25 Euro.
I felt a bit bad to sell this nice piece for such little money, but then again, you cannot expect that a 15 year old furniture will do as well as 15 year old speakers, can you?
Anyway, the buyer was Paul.
And Paul was extremely communicative: he spoke a funky mix of French, Dutch and English and he just would not shut the fuck up when you say something. He would ramble on and on and on without a break and without acknowledging that you are actually there. Phew!
So, I talked to Paul beginning of the week and he confirmed he would pick up the furniture on the weekend. Quite a while into February given that I was supposed to be out of the place by Jan 31, indeed. But fine!
Two days later he came back with bad news:
Like I said: it goes on like this forever if you do not put a stop to it.
I was pretty pissed off, on the one hand side, because I think it is pretty unfair if you purchase something on ebay which has to be picked up and then you do not have any means to actually organize the transport. On the other hand side, I wanted to close the bloody deal and clear out my old apartment.
So I said to Paul with the usual few minutes to get attention...
He seemed to be taken aback a little that I charged extra money, but he reluctantly agreed to the deal.
This morning we had another painful conversation on the phone, where I eventually gave the phone to Lamia to talk to him in French and get his address out of him. What he did, though, was telling her how I had to drive and that the road is really bad and that part of the street came down the other day.
What?!
I got a little concerned, but what can you do? After another few minutes of rambling attacks, Lamia had a chance to finally write down the address. Man!
After dropping Lamia at the station for her train to Paris, I drove back to my old apartment, disassembled the furniture (careful with those glass doors!) and drove to Paul's place.
Bloody hell! - the guy had not lied about the state of the street.
It was scary, even for Belgian standards! He lives in Molenbeek and the street in question is under construction, with potholes as big as a bath tub. The part right in front of his house had really caved in the day before (when I left I saw a camera team, presumably for the news).
Paul is maybe in his fifties and a person Lamia would call "Tier 3": half bald with a tousled, big full beard and tear sacs so big I could fit my whole Christmas loot from last year in there. A very nice guy - honest! - but with a talkativeness that'd put an army of women to shame!
I helped him carry the different furniture parts to the entrance of his house and he had of course many topics to cover: from me being German, to the places he has travelled to in Asia to the quality of the furniture to the talk he had with Lamia. Writing that my ears were bleeding is a friendly understatement...
No way! - I would have never guessed...
Ultimately, we had unloaded the car completely and though I was dying to get away, I did not forget to pocket the money. I bid farewell and escaped with screaming tires in a big, dusty cloud.
Phew! Another place I do not need to go back to, ever.
This was also true for the hifi furniture which sold for a pitiful 17,25 Euro.
I felt a bit bad to sell this nice piece for such little money, but then again, you cannot expect that a 15 year old furniture will do as well as 15 year old speakers, can you?
Anyway, the buyer was Paul.
And Paul was extremely communicative: he spoke a funky mix of French, Dutch and English and he just would not shut the fuck up when you say something. He would ramble on and on and on without a break and without acknowledging that you are actually there. Phew!
So, I talked to Paul beginning of the week and he confirmed he would pick up the furniture on the weekend. Quite a while into February given that I was supposed to be out of the place by Jan 31, indeed. But fine!
Two days later he came back with bad news:
Paul: I could not find a car... I do not have
one and I asked people. I first had one for
Tuesday, but this did not happen, and then
one for Thursday, but this did not happen
either. And 17,25 is not much money and
I know I should pick it up, that's normal.
I mean, I bought it and then it's my
responsibility to pick it up, naturally, but
without a car I cannot do it. I mean, I do not
live far away, but I still need a car to get it...
Like I said: it goes on like this forever if you do not put a stop to it.
I was pretty pissed off, on the one hand side, because I think it is pretty unfair if you purchase something on ebay which has to be picked up and then you do not have any means to actually organize the transport. On the other hand side, I wanted to close the bloody deal and clear out my old apartment.
So I said to Paul with the usual few minutes to get attention...
Leo: Paul. Paul! PAUL! Hello? Hey! Listen to
me! Lis... yeah... listen... listen... LISTEN TO ME!
Thanks. Look, I will help you and bring it to you...
Paul: Really?! Ooooooooh! This is so
nice! This is really great! I do not know what to
say. You are really nice.
Leo: ... but I will then charge you 25 Euro
in total, alright?
Paul: ... oh! ...
He seemed to be taken aback a little that I charged extra money, but he reluctantly agreed to the deal.
This morning we had another painful conversation on the phone, where I eventually gave the phone to Lamia to talk to him in French and get his address out of him. What he did, though, was telling her how I had to drive and that the road is really bad and that part of the street came down the other day.
What?!
I got a little concerned, but what can you do? After another few minutes of rambling attacks, Lamia had a chance to finally write down the address. Man!
After dropping Lamia at the station for her train to Paris, I drove back to my old apartment, disassembled the furniture (careful with those glass doors!) and drove to Paul's place.
Bloody hell! - the guy had not lied about the state of the street.
It was scary, even for Belgian standards! He lives in Molenbeek and the street in question is under construction, with potholes as big as a bath tub. The part right in front of his house had really caved in the day before (when I left I saw a camera team, presumably for the news).
Paul is maybe in his fifties and a person Lamia would call "Tier 3": half bald with a tousled, big full beard and tear sacs so big I could fit my whole Christmas loot from last year in there. A very nice guy - honest! - but with a talkativeness that'd put an army of women to shame!
I helped him carry the different furniture parts to the entrance of his house and he had of course many topics to cover: from me being German, to the places he has travelled to in Asia to the quality of the furniture to the talk he had with Lamia. Writing that my ears were bleeding is a friendly understatement...
Paul: This is really good service of you,
I must really say that! This is the nice thing
about ebay... I do this really for the contact
with the people...
No way! - I would have never guessed...
Ultimately, we had unloaded the car completely and though I was dying to get away, I did not forget to pocket the money. I bid farewell and escaped with screaming tires in a big, dusty cloud.
Phew! Another place I do not need to go back to, ever.
posted by Leo at
7:34 PM
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