r/delusionalcraigslist

So I’m scrolling Facebook Marketplace looking for racing seats for my van project and I find this dude selling a SINGLE aluminum bucket seat for $190.

When I tell you this thing looked catastrophic, I mean catastrophic.

This seat looked like somebody pissed, shit, cried, bled, and finalized divorce paperwork in it simultaneously. Like instead of cleaning it with a shop vac they just wiped it down with old paper towels and emotionally gave up halfway through.

The bolsters were bent to hell. The fabric looked chemically compromised. I swear to God if I flexed the aluminum too hard it would’ve shattered like it had been stored in a tank of liquid gallium next to the Ark of the Covenant.

This thing looked like it survived:

• 3 rollovers
• a meth lab fire
• Hurricane Katrina
• and an FBI evidence locker clearance sale

I’m looking at the photos trying to figure out if I’m buying a racing seat or patient zero.

Now to be fair, I understood the idea. Dude was probably trying to help somebody save money instead of buying brand new seats. Cool. Respectable concept.

But brother… for basically the same money I could buy TWO brand new knockoff reclinable buckets that HAVEN’T been through the automotive equivalent of the Fall of Rome.

So I’m trying to politely hint this to him without outright saying: “Sir, this seat looks like Epstein’s final gaming chair.”

I’m being respectful. I’m negotiating. I’m asking questions.

Every response from this dude: “Yeah.” “Works.” “Okay.” “Fine.”

The conversational charisma of a dead moth.

At one point I basically hinted: “Hey man if I find somebody looking for crackhead-quality race parts at premium pricing, I’ll send them your way.”

And instead of understanding the joke, this man starts showing me MORE seats.

BROTHER THEY GOT WORSE.

One looked like it was recovered from a Louisiana swamp during a true crime documentary. Another looked like Diddy himself had been using it as forensic storage.

Then comes the nuclear bomb: This man tells me he’s in FUCKING KANSAS.

I’m in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Brother what do you mean Kansas??? I’m not driving across the continental United States to pick up what looks like the world’s angriest biohazard booster seat.

Then this man starts talking about shipping.

SHIPPING.

BROTHER THE SHIPPING COSTS MORE THAN THE SANITATION PROCESS.

Anyway after all this, I still stay respectful. I tell him: “Have a good day man, hope things work out for you.”

Then he asks me for a 5-star review because “it helps Marketplace.”

I told him: “I’ll leave the review that’s deserved.”

And I did.

One star.

Not because the seat was awful — honestly that part was funny — but because this man communicated like a resentful DMV kiosk and had the personality of drywall.

After I leave the review he messages me: “You left me a shitty review after I answered all your questions. Get fucked.”

And that right there validated the entire review instantly.

AND THIS MAN IMMEDIATELY BLOCKED ME.

So I think: “If you’re gonna be an asshole, be an asshole and own up to your assholeness.”

That’s the part that killed me.

Dude wanted to talk shit, throw a grenade into the conversation, and then immediately hit the emergency eject button before hearing literally anything back.

Absolute Facebook Marketplace final boss behavior.

I wasn’t shopping for racing seats anymore. I was accidentally participating in a psychological study on divorced men from Kansas selling cursed furniture.

"You're welcome to look at it."

Extremely sturdy and reliable (some assembly required to get in and out of house)

Moms, I need you to tell me if this is reasonably priced.