The Movie Is Better Than The Trailer

I need to buy a bicycle trailer — the sort you tow behind a bicycle to carry extra stuff. I contact a man selling a used trailer. His profile gives his name as “Mr T.” I get weird vibes from him from the start.

Seller: “Meet me at [Public Car Park], tomorrow 1500. What are you driving?”

I give him the make, model, and colour of my car.

Me: “What about you?”

Seller: “Just message me when you get there.”

Meeting in a public place is common, but this car description nonsense? I put my bicycle on my bike rack and go to meet him. I message him when I arrive.

Me: “Dang, I’m parked here but I forgot to get cash. Are you here? Do you prefer a bank transfer to save you from getting delayed further?”

Seller: “I’ll prefer the cash. There’s a cashpoint at [Location].”

Me: “What are you driving?”

Seller: “Message me after you have cash.”

He still seems to be either rude or inexperienced but not exactly a fraud. After I get the cash and come back, a man gets out of a silver SUV. I approach him with my bicycle.

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name]. What’s your name?”

Seller: “Call me ‘Good Citizen.’” *Looking at my bicycle* “You said you were coming in a car.”

Me: “I did, and I brought my bike, too. Can you show me how it connects?”

What is the harm in a first name? If he wanted to be anonymous, he could at least use a plausible pseudonym, like “John Doe.” He demonstrates how to connect the trailer to my bike.

Me: “Thanks for the demo. I would like to reconnect it myself and take it for a test cycle.”

Seller: “But it’s only a trailer.”

Me: “And I’ve never cycled with a trailer. I need to see how it handles around the car park.”

Seller: “Give me your car keys.”

I’m appalled. I know where this is going but I make him spell it out.

Me: “Why?”

Seller: “So you don’t run off with that trailer.”

Me: “Please compare the value of my car compared to your £100 trailer. Then rephrase your question.”

Seller: “Give me your phone.”

Me: “You’re delusional. Anyway, I can call my carrier and block it. It’s a useless security.”

Seller: “You could steal my trailer! I need security like your wallet or phone!”

I won’t tell him the deal is off. Again, to me, these are red flags that he’s a jerk, not dangerous. He’s also asking only €100 for a €450 trailer, and nothing else is available nearby.

Me: “Let’s discuss what would actually happen if I tried to steal your trailer. I’d have to get my bike back onto my car and the trailer inside my car, which is 100 feet away. Do you seriously think that I could do that before you could stop me?”

Seller: “…”

Me: “Anyway, who drives forty miles to snatch and grab a bloody bicycle trailer? Something like the newest iPhone, maybe. A trailer isn’t exactly discreet, and it isn’t in demand, either. So, here’s what’s going to happen: I test ride it round the car park, no security. Otherwise, no deal. Understand?”

Seller: “I’ll stand at the exit. Don’t do a runner!”

Me: “You have my word. Also, you can drop the attitude, ‘Mr. Citizen.’”

I link up the trailer and cycle around the car park. It feels peculiar, but I get used to it quickly. I come back to the seller and finally test the water with the most clichéd question in used purchases.

Me: “Did you get a lot of interest?”

Seller: “Might have done.”

Me: “You’re asking €100. Would you take €95?”

Seller: “No.”

I quickly bought the trailer and left. I left him a one-star review on the classified website. In a symbolic act, I blocked his number and prayed I would never meet him again.