How my Facebook Marketplace Pick-Up Almost Wound up Being an Episode of Dateline...But Then Very Much Did Not

Facebook Marketplace has been a mixed bag experience for me. I’ve worked with some cool people who have turned my old wooden Coca-Cola crates into creative birdhouses, a guy who claimed he was Darth Vader and that I had his portrait (which he needed returned to him, naturally), and a number of Arkansas fans needing Razorback merch so they can look good while hoping for victory.

I’ve also dealt with some real flakes who say that they really, honestly, and truly WANT my item and then ghost me.

I always wonder about those people. Should I be filing a missing person’s report for them? Like they REALLY wanted those vintage 1998 movie posters, we went back and forth eight times in a conversation and then they’re GONE? What if they got kidnapped? What if they were driving home from work and their car went off a bridge and they are submerged in a lake and no one ever finds them? What if they don’t have any close friends of family members who notice they’ve been gone for days? Weeks? Months? And I was the one who was supposed to report them missing?

This morning I was scheduled to pick up a wooden vase in Rockwall at an address about 30 minutes from my house. The vase was wooden, priced at $10, and the lady I was communicating with entertained my stupid humor when we were setting up a time and I told her not to be jealous but I had a booster club meeting Tuesday night but would be happy to come pick up my item Wednesday morning. She responded, “I am so jelly!” I always appreciate it when people play along.

Anyway, the seller must have a nicer, newer car than Black Betty because she messaged me, “Message me when you’re a few minutes away and I’ll meet you at the end of my driveway!” Texting in Black Betty isn’t something we can do hands-free because she’s a senior citizen and doesn’t have those kinds of technological capabilities so I was like, “I guess I can text her when I’m at a stoplight and maybe I’ll be 18 minutes from her or maybe I’ll be three minutes away…anybody’s guess!” YOLO!

And away I went to the far off land of Rockwall to collect the sexy vase for the Hog House. Side note: I did find a stoplight seven minutes away that was red so I was able to give her a head’s up.

I knew this was going to be sorta country based on the map even though parts of Rockwall are very suburban. I pulled onto the street and it wasn’t a full two lanes, it was like a lane and a half and very winding, and to add to the fun, a tree trimming service was blocking part of the road ahead of me. I precariously parked Black Betty as close to the edge of the road as I could, turned on my hazard lights at the end of what I thought was her driveway and texted her that I was there. She hadn’t seen my seven minute warning message so I began to wonder about making the police welfare call.

I sat there, killing polar bears with my big ass gas-guzzling vehicle, for eleven minutes and she finally responded to come up the driveway. I shall use the term “driveway” loosely- it was a very long, windy, gravel road with trees growing over it. At this point a normal person would have been like, “I probably shouldn’t drive up a blind driveway where no one can see me because this feels like the start of a Dateline episode.”

But not me! I was like, “I made a commitment and I need to buy the $10 vase!”

I finally see the house and get Black Betty turned around (bam-a-lam) because I don’t want to back out onto the winding country road and I wait. The garage door is open and it looks like she also might have a husband who makes poor choices at auctions because I’m not even sure there’s a pathway to walk through in the garage to get to the house. I text the lady back and she says, “Ok, this is actually my mom’s house. Honk the horn to let her know you’re there. She’s blind but she’ll come out.”

If this is a set up, this lady is good. If it’s not a set up, I’m pretty sure I can take on an older blind lady if she tries to abduct me.

I honk the horn and wait.

Nothing.

So I honk again, and look around to make sure I’m not missing anything and then in my rearview mirror I see some movement.

It’s not an older blind lady, it’s a huge ass tom turkey and a gang of ducks and chickens who are very interested in my car and the honking and whatnot.

Because I’m not normal, I think, “I could maybe get out and be friends with them? Or maybe the turkey will attack me? How mad would Brandon be if I came home with a duck?” because if this lady really is blind she’ll never even see me stick a duck in the back of my car.

As I’m weighing options an older lady comes out in a yellow caftan, a floppy, wide brimmed hat and she is cute as a fucking button. The fact that nineteen minutes have gone by while I’m waiting for this stupid vase all just kind of melts away.

She smiles and says, “I’m Lorena’s mom!”

“Oh great! I’m here to pick up a vase?” I pose as a question because notably she has hobbled through the garage disaster and is most definitely NOT carrying a vase.

“Well let me call her and see where she put it,” and she proceeds to call Lorena.

Lorena tells her it’s on a grey metal shelf so floppy brim hat lady wanders back into the garage but not before I ask if I can get out and take pictures of the turkey, who is named Duke apparently “likes to show off for women.”

At this point I’m grateful to be unemployed and not have a timeline because it’s clear this isn’t going to be a short process. She comes back, without the vase, “Well it’s not where she said it was. Our lawn guy kind of disappeared on us and it’s so long now, we can ride out to look for it.”

There are multiple buildings on the property in addition to the main house, a big metal barn and an adorable shack with a covered front porch the whole length of the building that would have been a perfect She Shed (for painting or writing a book) or perhaps a very nice playhouse for younger children. It’s only about thirty feet from us but the grass is long, she’s blind, it’s hot so I get into the golf cart.

“No,” I think to myself, “THIS is how people disappear and wind up on Dateline. Definitely this isn’t the best choice you’ve ever made”

Lorena’s mom gets into the golf cart, I step around the chickens and get in, “Tell me if I’m going to hit your car, I’m legally blind you know” she laughs as she carefully backs up. I wince thinking about the lady who came to buy Ball mason jars from us and hit our mailbox knocking it over. Poor lady, these Texas brick mailboxes are about $1,200 a pop. But Lorena’s mom misses Black Betty and we’re all good.

Her eyes are so beautiful and her hair, salt and pepper, peaking out from her somewhat janky floppy hat, is blowing in the breeze. She’s full of smiles and I get the feeling she’s grateful to have someone to talk to. We take the 22 second ride over to the shack with the front porch. There’s an adorable pink pedal airplane for a toddler completely blocking the entry to the shack. I look up this adorable thing when I get home, they are still available on-line for $437. I secretly want the airplane.

I peek into the shack but try not to walk in too far JUST in case, in Billy Bob Thornton’s Bad Santa’s words “granny is spry” and she suddenly tries to abduct me. I quickly spot the vase and point it out to her, “Where?” she says, reminding me again that she can’t see and is blind.

She hands it to me and it’s what I had secretly hoped it would be. There are these beautiful wooden vases that Home Goods carries frequently, sometimes they are white washed, sometimes stained, but when you smell the inside they have a very distinct smokey smell. I tell her about the vase and let her smell it which she is surprised by.

We get back in the golf cart for our return trip and she tells me all about the stuff they have and that Lorena hasn’t listed all of it and that her house is full of stuff too. Lorena mentioned that “all of our proceeds go toward the feeding and care of many abandoned, abused, and failure to thrive animals.”

Usually when I’m buying stuff on Facebook Marketplace I find the item on the porch and have already paid or perhaps just have a quick interaction with the seller and pay in cash. Today when I first arrived and was sitting on the road, feeling a little vulnerable and like my behemoth vehicle was likely blocking the road I could feel my anxiety creeping in and I felt irritable. I wondered how long I should wait and if this person was a flake

By the time I left my whole attitude and outlook on the situation had changed, largely because I wasn’t abducted and murdered, but also because I took the time to stop, breathe, give some grace, and in the moment enjoy the experience even if it wasn’t what I had planned in my mind.

Lorena’s mom, despite facing physical difficulties with her vision, was sweet, kind, and delightful. She slightly eased my long-held anxiety about aging. I saw a woman who embraced her changing gray hair, wore the flowy caftan uniform of older ladies, and most importantly, smiled and was warm. For a moment I stopped and smelled the vase with her while putting aside what I thought should happen and enjoyed an unexpected detour.