I’m looking for a used phone on a social media marketplace. It’s a temporary replacement until payday, so I’m not looking for anything fancy. I find one simply listed as “[Brand] phone – $50”. It has a picture of the phone, but nothing that states the model, year, operating system, condition, or even size of the phone. From the picture, I can’t see any cracks or cosmetic damage, so I decide to message the seller for more information.

Me: “Hello! I saw your listing and was hoping to find out the generation and condition?”

Seller: “[Brand].”

Me: “Yes, I see it’s a [Brand]. What kind is it, though? A [top-tier model]? A [lower-tier model]? How old is the phone?”

Seller: “You wanna buy it?”

Me: “I’m interested. If I can get some more information…?”

The seller then calls me via the chatting/selling app. I get a creepy gut feeling and don’t answer. Once he hangs up, I message him through our conversation.

Me: “I’d like some more information before I call. I know it’s a [Brand], but what kind?”

As I am typing my next message, the seller calls again. He calls twice more. At this point, I’ve decided I’m no longer interested. He sends me a large emoji of a thumbs up.

Seller: “You want the phone or not?”

Me: “Not anymore. I was hoping to find out more information before I decided whether or not to buy, but it’s no longer necessary. Thank you for your time.”

He calls again, but this time he leaves a voice message.

Seller: *Static, shuffling* “Bruh! You want this phone or not? It ain’t that hard! So, you gonna buy it today? Where you wanna meet up?” *Pauses and smacks lips* “Man! I ain’t got time for this! You want it or nah?!” *Click*

At this point, I decided my gut feeling was right and I was scared. I blocked the seller before he could call or message me again. The next day, my boyfriend found a great deal on two used phones that ended up being upgrades for both of us.

I open instant messaging to check what time my friend is free to do something.

Me: “Hey, bro. Is seven okay?”

Friend: “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you call me ‘bro’.”

Me: “Yeah, a few minutes ago, I thought about saying, ‘Hey, bro,’ and then I thought, ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve never called him ‘bro’ before. Let’s see how that goes.’ I wasn’t sure if you’d even notice, but it turns out you totally did.”

Friend: “It’s very out of your normal way of speaking. It’s like the thing where, like, if it was you and your evil robot clone, and I had to shoot one of you, and you were like, ‘Hey, bro, it’s me, though,’ I’d totally shoot you. I’d be like, ‘Yeah, that must be the robot, I guess.'”

Me: “I’ll be sure never to call you ‘bro’ if there’s an evil robot clone involved.”

I live in a different country from my family and we keep contact online. I call my mother to ask what my teenage sister might want for her birthday and the conversation starts going places. Keep in mind that this is in the middle of the global health crisis.

Mother: “My friend [Friend] visited recently; we went to the beach. It was fully packed! But we had a great time.”

Me: “Okay, glad to hear that you did.”

Mother: “Plane tickets are crazy cheap right now. Are you sure you won’t be coming home?”

I am annoyed at this question for several reasons. First, it’s not home anymore; I live somewhere else now. Second, I have two chronic illnesses, one of which is asthma, and the second ensures that I have a difficult time recovering from any illness, including the common cold. To put it on simply, I cannot afford to contract the disease that shall not be named.

Me: “Nope, not flying anywhere this year.”

Mother: “But why not? Are you afraid?”

Me: “Of course I am! I don’t love the idea of sitting in a packed plane for two hours while all this is going on, so I won’t be doing it. Not in the middle of a disease outbreak.”

My mother then starts “explaining” that not everyone dies of the disease in question, that it’s no worse than a common flu, and that the crisis isn’t real, ignoring official facts because she “doesn’t trust the media.”

Mother: “…anyway, only people with underlying health conditions have to worry about it. All of us can go about our lives as usual.”

Did I mention that I have asthma?

Me: “Great for you. I have to hang up now.”

Something tells me I won’t be visiting even when the crisis is under control.

The lockdown has given my family a chance to go through and get rid of a lot of our old stuff. We have given away a load of kid’s stuff for free and everything else is cheap.

We have an armchair that was a spare, never really used. We paid around £150 new; we are asking £30.

Choosy Beggar: “I like the armchair; could I pay £20? I can come round tomorrow? We have just bought a house and have no furniture.”

Me: “You know what, sure. We will make sure it has been cleaned and will leave it outside ready for you.”

I disassemble the chair, take it down two narrow flights of stairs, steam clean it, and reassemble it outside. The choosy beggar picks it up and pays, but I get a message that night.

Choosy Beggar: “The chair doesn’t fit in our house; could we bring it back? You could sell it to someone else.”

Me: “Sorry, no. We haven’t got the room anymore.”

Choosy Beggar: “I can’t fit it through the door; what can I do?”

Me: “I have no idea. I got it down two flights of stairs. Try taking the legs off?”

Choosy Beggar: “Thanks for nothing.”

Related:
Chairing This Situation

Friend: “Is it true you really have a cousin who’s a Sith Lord?”

Me: “What? Not that I know of. Where did you ever hear that from?”

Friend: “From [Mutual Acquaintance who knows other members of my extended family].”

Me: “Umm… Are you maybe talking about [Cousin]?”

Friend: “Just ‘cousin’ is all I know.”

Me: “Okay, well, [Cousin] is Sikh. S-I-K-H. It’s an Indian religion.”