The internet is our modern-day town square — a sea of strangers willing to box up just about everything besides their family and ship it to you at a moment's notice.
I catch myself endlessly scrolling the classifieds on KSL. Once, in search of a projector screen, I showed up at the address of a KSL vendor. It was dusk, and he was burning trash in his front yard.
My friends and I were led past a gate toward the back of his property where a vast wasteland of junk was piled 10 feet high, forming an impenetrable labyrinth. While making this purchase I followed the two cardinal rules of online buying:. Another trash fire signaled I had reached my destination. It was a warehouse that was half burned down and the proprietors were selling discount refrigerators.
The farther back in the inventory, the more charred the appliance. They took some steel wool to my crispy fridge of choice and sent me on my way. Many formative experiences were brought about through the purchase of goods from these online marketplaces. Each listing offers a window into the human soul. Behind each wedding ring is a story of love and loss. The possibilities are boundless. Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.
I learned this obsession from my father, who I often found squinting at grainy images on Craigslist before our dial-up internet was rendered useless by an incoming call from my grandmother or the IRS. My father and I are not in the market for anything specific, but we are on the hunt.
