Selling things through online classifieds has become a normal part of cleaning out your home or garage for most people these days. You get rid of functional items you no longer need and even make a bit of money back. The golden rule I’d followed for years was crystal clear: either hand-to-hand exchange or payment in advance to my account. Never send anything cash on delivery to strangers. But it only takes a moment of inattention, an apparently urgent situation on the other end, and you make an exception that immediately comes back to bite you.
I was selling a well-preserved set of electric tools in a sturdy plastic case—a professional cordless drill with two batteries, a fast charger, and a set of drill bits. It was fully functional, barely used, and I set the price at a very reasonable two and a half thousand crowns. The ad had barely gone live when my phone rang around noon on Friday.
The interested buyer spoke quickly, urgently, and sounded like a tradesman in a real bind. He introduced himself as Pavel and blurted out: “Hello, I urgently need exactly this set. My drill burned out on the construction site yesterday and I have to finish drywalling for a contract by Monday. I’m from the other end of the country, I can’t make it in person. Please, send it to me today, express, cash on delivery via Zásilkovna or the post office. I’ll pay you two hundred extra for your willingness and speed, just make sure it’s at the pick-up point by Saturday or Monday morning at the latest.”
When I objected that I don’t send things cash on delivery and prefer immediate bank transfer, he launched into another tirade: “Man, if you transfer money between banks on a Friday afternoon, it’ll be Monday evening before it arrives and I’ll be stuck. Trust me, a man’s word is his bond. I’ve got fifty thousand crowns’ worth of work waiting on this, I’m desperate for it.”
I sympathized with his situation. I know what it’s like when your tools break down and a deadline is looming. I made a mistake—I believed him. I sat down at my desk, found a sturdy cardboard box, carefully wrapped the case in bubble wrap, taped it up, and at three in the afternoon on Friday stood in line at the drop-off point. For express shipping cash on delivery for two and a half thousand crowns, plus insurance, I paid two hundred and fifty crowns out of my own pocket. I sent the buyer a photo of the shipping receipt and the tracking number. He just replied briefly: “Thanks a lot, you saved me, I’ll pick it up as soon as it arrives.”
On Monday at nine in the morning, I got a notification in the app—the parcel was ready for pick-up at the collection point in his city. I waited contentedly, expecting he’d collect the package during the day and I’d receive the money in my account.
But nothing happened. On Monday, the parcel sat at the branch. On Tuesday, too. By Wednesday afternoon, I couldn’t take it anymore and sent him a polite SMS asking if he knew the parcel was waiting for him. No reply. On Thursday, I tried calling him. The phone rang, but nobody answered. Two hours later, I called again—this time the call was immediately declined.
On Friday, a week after sending, I got an automatic notification from the pick-up point that the storage period was ending and the parcel would be sent back to the sender. At that moment, I tried calling from my work phone, whose number he didn’t know.
He picked up after two rings. A completely calm, relaxed voice answered: “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Novák. I’m calling about the cordless drill you ordered cash on delivery, which has been waiting for you at the pick-up point for a week and is being returned today. Can you explain why you didn’t pick it up when you said on Friday you couldn’t work without it?”
There was a short silence on the other end, followed by a cold, arrogant sigh with not the slightest hint of shame: “Oh, that… Well, look, I changed my mind on Saturday. My brother-in-law lent me his drill and then on Monday I saw a brand new one on sale at Bauhaus for about the same price, so I bought that. So I don’t need your parcel anymore.”
I stared at the phone in disbelief. “And you couldn’t at least send me a message? I rushed to the post office on Friday because of you, packed it up, and paid two hundred and fifty crowns for postage out of my own pocket!”
The guy snorted indifferently into the phone: “Oh come on, don’t make a big deal out of it. The parcel will come back to you in one piece, nobody stole anything from you. That’s what cash on delivery is for, so I can decide. And two hundred for postage won’t kill you.” And with that, he hung up.
It was an incredible display of utter selfishness and a complete lack of personal responsibility. For him, it was just a click or a phone call, a bit of fun for an afternoon with no consequences. For me, it meant a real financial loss: not only did I lose two hundred and fifty crowns for sending it, but when I received the returned parcel, I had to pay another one hundred and eighty crowns for the return shipping of the uncollected package. Over four hundred crowns down the drain, wasted time packing, and two weeks during which I could have sold the tools to other interested buyers whom I’d turned down because of his “urgent request.”
For me, that was the final straw for any kind of flexibility on online classifieds. I’ve set an absolutely uncompromising rule: not even a screw leaves via postal services until I see at least enough money in my account to cover round-trip shipping. If someone won’t agree and starts telling stories about being in a hurry and a man’s word, tough luck. The selfishness of people who use others’ goodwill and money for a no-strings-attached trial knows no bounds online.
