Confessions of a Facebook Marketplace Addict

– A tragic love story between me, my wallet, and questionable car parts

There was a time in my life when I woke up to sunshine, birds chirping, and maybe a motivational podcast or two. Now, I wake up to “Is this still available?” and messages from strangers trying to trade rusty wheels for vape pens and good vibes.

1. The First Hit: How It All Started

It began innocently. I was just “browsing.” You know, just looking at project cars I couldn’t afford and parts I didn’t need. Then one day, I saw it — a set of coilovers listed as “gud condishun, no leaks (I think), came off my bro’s Integra RIP.” It was love at first typo.

I messaged the seller. We met in a Tim Hortons parking lot. I handed him $120 in crumpled bills. He handed me something that smelled like regret and Red Bull. I went home happy. And just like that, I was hooked.

2. The Marketplace Personalities You Learn to Fear

💬 The “Still Available?” Ghost

They message. You reply. And they vanish like your paycheck on payday.

🔄 The Serial Swapper

Wants to trade you their 2005 Civic bumper for your OEM turbo kit. “Fair trade bro.”

🕵️‍♂️ The Mysterious Lister

No photos, no description, no clue. Just: “Car. Runs. Maybe.”

📸 The Over-Sharer

20 photos of the car’s roof, blurry selfies, and zero of the actual damage. “Needs TLC.” Sir, it needs an exorcism.

3. My Marketplace Browsing Routine (a full-time job)

• Morning: Scroll through “Newly Listed.” Say no to obvious scams. Say yes to mild scams.
• Afternoon: Convince myself I need a second project car. It’s “only” $700 and “ran last year.”
• Evening: Make irrational lowball offers. Pretend to be offended when they’re declined.
• Midnight: Re-watch car YouTubers to justify everything.

4. The Excuses I Tell Myself (and Others)

• “It’s an investment.”
  Spoiler alert: It’s not. It’s a 1999 Accord with three wheels and a raccoon living in the trunk.
• “I can flip this.”
  Sure you can. Just as soon as you learn welding, painting, wiring, engine rebuilding, and therapy.
• “It’s rare.”
  So is common sense. Doesn’t mean you should buy a rusty JDM fender from a guy named Chad who spells “manual” with a K.

5. Lessons I Refuse to Learn

• Don’t meet sellers after dark.
  Unless you enjoy shady deals lit only by iPhone flashlights and the sound of your own anxiety.
• Always ask for more photos.
  Because “clean title” doesn’t mean “not submerged in a lake.”
• Your garage has a limit.
  Mine technically doesn’t, but the neighbors are starting to ask questions.

Final Thoughts: There Is No Cure. Only More Listings.

The Facebook Marketplace automotive section is chaos. It’s unregulated, unpredictable, and often deeply disappointing — and I love it with all my heart.

So if you ever find yourself saying, “I’m just browsing,” know that you are already one click away from meeting a guy in a parking lot who wants to trade his turbo manifold for a broken Xbox and a handshake.

And when you do, I’ll be there — 12 tabs open, coffee in hand, typing “Still available?” with the confidence of someone who hasn’t learned a thing.