When selling things, I like getting to the public place – like a grocery store parking lot or some other busy location – about five or ten minutes early, and sometimes I’ll be late. When I’m not, that’s a good time to check my surroundings, soak in the scenery, and wait for the buyer. I don’t recommend being “off your guard” during this time by reading essays or writing text messages. It’s just good not being sidetracked.
Sometimes we’ll find ourselves distracted by things.
I’m currently distracted by finding an essay that didn’t seem to publish when it should have published on February 20, so my focus isn’t keened in on writing this essay. When we arrive at places to sell things, especially if we’re new to the selling process, we may also feel that sense of overwhelm over the sights and sounds. That’s part of why I like arriving early. It’s also because I can occasionally take the wrong exit and without that buffer time, I might be late. Even though it will be a single interaction with someone I’ll probably never meet again, I still want to be respectful toward them, and part of that respect is planning my time so I’m not late.
Even if I’m early, if they arrived first, I’ll say, “sorry I’m late.”
It’s an instinctual thing. I learned only eight years into my career that it feels fantastic arriving over fifteen minutes early. That gives me time to find a parking stall, get into the office, use the restroom, get my water and coffee, and settle in before I start work. That process helps me cope with the working process that would otherwise be too overwhelming with this sense of urgency that arises from decluttering the mind from the stress of the commute.
Plus, what happens if there’s a traffic jam?
I’ve been finding that the more obstacles I clear for myself early, the easier it is for me. I have my pants laid out for myself to switch into from my pajamas after I’m done with this essay for my next task. I’ll prepare everything I need for work before going to bed, so when I wake up, I can focus on doing as many enjoyable activities as I can to keep myself from not steering into bad moods before going into work. I might write, edit, or meander through media.
When I have to rush through preparing my lunch, I get subtly anxious.
I have yet to have a bad selling experience, or buying experience for that matter, for safeguard reasons like that. I never leave myself open to vulnerabilities when I meet people. Since I’m selling off my retro computer collection, I will pick up the computers from my trunk and may even place it in their car, but only after I talk to them and we establish that common ground rapport. It’s much less likely that they’re going to bonk me on the head if there are people around, but also too, you can generally get a sense for who someone is based on how they act in email and in person.
Go with your gut but don’t act recklessly.
When you’re in a rush because you’re late, your observational skills might be funneled closer to panic over what needs to happen next. When you’re early, that overwhelming sense of boredom might creep in, but in situations like meeting a buyer to sell something, your mind – if it’s like mine – will switch over to thinking everything over. Selling retro computers is cut-and-dry when you’re selling as-is to people. The buyer knows what they’re buying and if you can give any information, all the better. I haven’t had any barterers yet, and as far as retro computer enthusiasts, the market is small enough where they’re hard enough to find that the only ones that respond are those that know what they’re getting into and know the value of it.
For me, they’ve become shelf-warmers in the apartment-mansion.
For them, they’re project computers to recreate a bygone era. If only I had more of the inclination to troubleshoot and tinker with retro computers more than dipping my toes into the occasional retro game. They’re fun. It’s just a time and space commitment I’m no longer interested in. I’ll tinker around with them during the photo-generation process for the sales ads, which is the final chance for any attachment to appear, otherwise, you should iron out any seller’s regret before you even post the ad.
That’s why I write essays after selling them.
That, in a sense, captures the totality of the experience into something I can revisit later without the physicality of lugging a computer around. If I hadn’t gained much value from the item while I was tinkering with it to sell it, then my mind’s infinite imagination might conjure up thoughts of magnitudes more than reality over what I thought of those objects. For me, they’re just things I want to get into people’s hands that will appreciate them more than me, and if it’s too much of a waste of time, then I’d just as soon donate them to get them out of my way.
If I arrive too early, I’ll text when I’m about 2-5 minutes early.
I’ll text with where I’m generally located so they know where to find me if they’re running late, or if they’ve already arrived, then we can meet up early. I’ll offer to meet on the far side of a parking lot so it’s easier to find each other’s car. When I sold one item recently, I told the buyer that had arrived earlier than me, “I thought that was you, but I didn’t want to be a creeper if it wasn’t,” so I parked far enough away where I could have been some shopper going to the store. That’s where it’s nice, too, if you’re early but get a bad vibe.
You don’t have to take an early exit in life to sell anything.
|Quotes: Just me.|
|Sources: My selling experiences.|
|Inspirations: My most recent buyer of a retro computer texted me to say he took the wrong exit. I jammed on this and other ideas.|
|Related: Other Selling Zeal essays.|
|Picture: Generic template image.|
|Written On: 2020 February 20 [7am to 7:37am]|
|Last Edited: 2020 February 20 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|