So I followed up on my buddy Tom's recommendation that I hit up that Craigslist seller regarding the W70,000 fridge. What happened was a lesson in why you should never trust Craigslist because Craigslist is full of freaks.
I wrote an email to the fridge seller (for privacy reasons, Craigslist encrypts its emails so that you can't know the true email address of the recipient) asking, first, whether it would be all right for me to come by Thursday morning to pick up the fridge, and second, whether we'd have to negotiate stairs (how many flights?) or use an elevator, etc. I left my number and asked the person to text me a reply.
The reply that came was in rather dubious, somewhat foreign-sounding grammar:
Hi kevin kim, Its nice to hear that you are living nearer to chungmuro station. Unfortunately my fridge is already sold out last day. If you need to get any help while moving then.please let me know. I can help you. :)
That seemed nice enough. I texted back:
Thanks for getting back to me. I appreciate it.
The person's text had arrived after midnight, at 12:18AM. That was already a bit odd. I thought that, with the above text, I had effectively dismissed the person and cut off further communication. Apparently not, because at 1:38AM(!!), I received the following text:
I can see you tomorrow evening after 7 pm. When will you be free
Whafuck? Did this person think I still wanted to meet? Did this person think I had asked to meet? Was this text actually meant for me? So I wrote:
Hi, this is Kevin Kim. I think you might have texted the wrong person! I'm not arranging to meet you. Sorry!
The reply was swift:
Yes i know you are kevin kim today you emailed me regarding fridge sale :)
Creepier and creepier. Like the beginning of a horror story. Obviously, this person was a bit slow on the uptake, and I needed to spell things out. So at 1:43AM, I wrote:
Okay. There's no need to meet if you've already sold the fridge, but thank you.
Finally, the person—who I now think is a woman—got a clue:
Ok dear . Good night
Whew. That was close. I could have ended up chopped into pieces by some demonic grandmother, my body parts languishing in a different fridge.
Life lesson: on Craigslist, there's a 90% chance you'll encounter freaks, marginals, and generally scary people. Caveat lector.