Humour: meet Amanda Blair at the marketplace

People may talk of the evils of social media. But there is also a land of golden opportunity – provided you’re quick enough to place your offer.

Awooden, pineapple-shaped, rotating dip and snack server. This broke him. “But it’s handy,” I said. “Look – there are toothpick holes in the pineapple so you can display your cheese squares, cocktail onions and kabana slices when we have a barbecue or outdoor meal not requiring charcoal meats.” He shook his head. “You have to stop – we don’t need any more STUFF.”

It was like a knife to my heart. Husband didn’t understand, but my friend Emma did. We message each other late into the night like secret spies on a mission. She knows what I like, I know what she wants, we’ve got each other’s backs and the Tarago can usually handle any delivery situation.

I’ve lost hours of my life down the online rabbit hole – but look what gems I’ve come out with! In no specific order: the Edwardian armchair covered in 1970s purple velvet; the vintage Australiana Red Kangaroo 100% acrylic jumper for teen son, who doesn’t appreciate the kitsch coolness (yet); the 1960s Mikasa Snow White dinner set missing two plates and a cup; the wooden door we don’t actually need, but should anything happen to ours we have a replacement (seller had me at “free delivery”); the monarchy book collection including Princess Margaret’s Wedding Album; the Fisher Price activity centre in case a six-month-old visits; the four jars of old buttons; the velvet studded bedhead; and the 1979 Jayco campervan we’ll take to Uluru for the family trip of a lifetime even though teenage daughter says she’d rather get stabbed in the eye with a fork than go anywhere with us.

Thanks Facebook Marketplace for these magnificent finds. You’ve also helped me clock up kilometres zooming around my fair city and oft semirural areas in search of sellers’ addresses. “Location is approximate” – you’re not joking. I’ve been to Crete and the isle of Greece, and I really have sipped champagne on a yacht, now I’ve been to Paradise, a suburb 13km from my home, late one night to pick up two Ravensburger 1000-piece jigsaws from a pet-free, smoke-free home. I’ve still never been to Me, but if somebody lived in Me and posted something I wanted at the right price, I’d go there – fast.

Buying on FB Marketplace requires stealth, cunning and speed. There is not a Facebooker alive who won’t agree that the word PENDING posted on a listing you weren’t quick enough to grab can induce a depressive state that takes weeks to shift. I’m still lamenting the fact I didn’t hit “send seller a message” to Liz for the Berroco Flicker Yarn when I saw it at 4am, thinking she wouldn’t be awake to receive my inquiry about the 10 skeins of 87% alpaca wool for $50, because she wouldn’t be awake, having a menopausal hot flush like me. Plus, wool isn’t a popular listing unless it’s “mid-century wool”; if you bung “mid-century” on anything on Marketplace, it sells for twice as much, twice as fast.

Alas, by the time I woke at 7am, the ‘P’ word had been posted and I politely asked if I could be ‘NIL’ (next in line; get with the talk, kids), she said she’d give the buyer until lunchtime to collect. I’m ashamed to admit that for the rest of the morning I wished bad things upon this anonymous buyer, hoping their car broke down or that a sinkhole opened up in their driveway so they couldn’t leave their house for a very long time.

Then, the ‘S’ word (sold) was posted and the other ‘S’ word came out of my mouth. I consoled myself with a snack … emotionally ate through the disappointment. Aren’t I lucky that I have something nice to display my snacks in? Sometimes a wooden, pineapple-shaped, rotating dip and snack server is just the thing you need to brighten your day. I’m sure you can find one on FB Marketplace.