I once sold a truck to a guy who called and agreed to pay full price as long as I brought it to the airport within the hour. It was incredibly sus, but my truck had been for sale for months, and I had grown desperate. So I went. It only got weirder.
The moment I arrive he hops in the drivers seat for a test drive, and a run to the bank to get the money to buy it. He’s a freakishly large porcine fellow, adorned head to toe in dirty work clothes. He looked like Hagrid if he were an alcoholic with a the world’s most unionized construction job.
We get to chatting on the drive. Work, life, conspiratorial ramblings, Donald Trump, Pakis. The usual, if you know this type of guy.
I come to learn he needed to buy my truck to get home. He had bought a one way plane ticket to come buy a different one, but had been ghosted by the seller when he landed. He was stranded at an airport on the other side of the country with no other plan.
So I thought, “well maybe I know the guy who ghosted him. Let me see if I can help.” I asked to see his phone to read his FB Marketplace message with the seller.
He had been talking to some guy with Broken English and a vaguely middle eastern sounding name for several days now. The guy was selling an incredibly desirable truck for 30% below market. A virtually impossible deal. The vehicular equivalent of a horny singles in your area add on a porn site.
He turned to me and said “y’know, his listing says the truck is about an hour from here, maybe I should go look for him.”
I said “bro I’m looking at his profile, he has this same truck listed in every city in North America. The plate in the photos isn’t even from our state. This truck is spammed hundreds of times across marketplace.”
To which he replied, “yeah I thought that was weird. I think it’s a glitch.”
“No it’s not a glitch… you didn’t send him money did you?” I asked, fearing the answer.
“Yeah I sent him a money, otherwise he was gonna sell it to another guy.”
I winced. “how much?”
“Five thousand bucks.”
“……okay.”
“Well let’s look him up, we have his name.” He replies confidently.
“Look him up where?” I ask.
“Facebook”
“I’m looking at his Facebook. It’s not real.”
Just then we arrive at the bank, he parks my 2500HD in the handicap spot at a 45 degree angle. I say maybe we should pick a different spot, he tells me he isn’t picky.
We set up the wire transfer, he makes a disparaging remark about brown people to the teller. She frowns, she is brown. The money luckily still gets sent. And he takes off in the truck.
Hours later he calls me from the middle of nowhere. He had decided to fuck with the aftermarket tuner while driving and bricked it. He was stranded.
I don’t think all you xitter users realize just how difficult the modern world already is for an 85IQ person to navigate.
With 53% of youtube shorts views now coming from AI content, these people are about to be thrust into a completely incomprehensible dream realm forever.
Bricklayer, 49, travels 1,200 miles for dream girl - only to discover she's AI-generated
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