Old Jack City

There's a reason I have a legit, corporate 9-5 job and am not a career drug dealer. Well, there are several, including my need for paid time off, I don't look good in orange, and Weeds aside, most hardened career drug criminals don't take suburban white moms seriously. (Maybe if I looked like Mary-Louise Parker I could pull it off. But probably not even then.)

No, the primary reason I am not a drug dealer is my inability to lie. Rather, my inability to lie well. I lie like a dog. I'm just not very good at it.

Case in point--my baby formula ring. What should have been as easy as post ad, answer phone, wait for buyer, hand over goods and collect cash has turned into a debacle of blowout-shitty-diaper proportions. Never mind most of the people who have inquired about the goods do not speak English as their primary language of choice. The biggest issue has been diversity of inventory. For the blissfully unaware, baby formula comes in more varieties than underarm deodorant (if you've been in the market for either, you know what I'm talking about). I have multiple cans of multiple different formulas. And while I had *hoped* to sell them all as a package deal, the buying public has not been so accommodating.

Yesterday, I got an email from a dude who requested all five cans of Similac Sensitive I had in stock. This stuff retails for roughly $8.25 a can; I was offering my five cans for $15. Quite a bargain, yes? I agreed to meet him at an undisclosed location to make the exchange of Baby Blow for cash.

When I went to load up the goods, however, I noticed one can had been opened. (We had a habit of switching up formulas because the Toddler had a habit of barfing a lot, so a nearly-full, open can was not unusal, just annoying.) I considered calling the dude and explaining I only had four cans and knocking $3 off the total price. Then greed (and my complete lack of scruples) took over, and I tossed in a can of Enfamil AR, another "sensitive" variety with a very similar orange label.

It's not like I was putting cyanide in someone's cocaine here. After having two formula-fed children, both of whom errupted like geisers after every feeding, I can assure you--it doesn't make any difference what color the label is. Inside, it's all the same shit. (And don't anyone feel the need to explain to me the difference between soy and milk-based, either, because I'm not even talking about soy, so suck it.)

So off I went to make a drop of four cans of Similac and one rogue can of Enfamil. I even took my oldest along for the ride, you know, so he could get a feel for how dangerous this business is and be compelled to stay in school and get a real job. I got out of the car, all smiles and innocence, handed the dude the (tightly closed) bag, collected my $15, got back in my car, and hauled ass out of there.

I felt pretty good about my odds. After all, I didn't just jack the guy for several thousand dollars worth of Colombian. It was a $3 can of baby formula. I figured either they'd just give it to their kid, or toss it and consider themselves out $3, but not really because they'd gotten the other cans for less than half price.

Then after dinner, I check my email and find this:

One of those cans was an Infamil Lipil AR. Do you still have the 5th can of the Similac? I would like to get that one from you and send the Infamil back w/ you sometime please.

Are you fucking serious? I know the economy is in the shitter, but seriously--this guy is busting my balls over three dollars. Three dollars!

I debated what to do next. I figured I could just ignore him. After all, the worst he could do would be, what, post something on Craig's famous list about how I "run scams" and "can't be trusted?" It's not like you can file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau over a bait-and-switch pulled by an unsuspecting suburban mom trying to unload leftover baby formula on an internet bulletin board. It's not like you can go to jail for that. Hell, maybe, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.

In the end, I decided to take the high road. I sent him the following email this morning:

I'm sorry about that, after I got your email, I checked the remaining cans and could not locate a Similac. My husband grouped these and it's possible he either thought the Enfamil was Similac or someone else has that other can of Similac. At any rate, if you email me a mailing address, I will mail the $3 back to you for the 5th can.

Note how I pushed all the blame onto my poor, unsuspecting husband. I thought that was a nice touch. At any rate, I figured the guy would shrug it off and tell me not to worry about it because it's not a good idea to give strangers you meet on the Internet your home address. And also because he would probably feel like a big douche actually telling me where to send him three freakin' dollars.

Again, I underestimate the depths to which some people will sink. I received his email, complete with mailing address, not ten minutes later. And while I have pondered the idea of sending him 300 pennies, I have decided it's not worth the added trouble and postage expense.

I have one other person interested in taking 14 cans of variety formula off my hands. I emailed her today telling her to meet me at another undisclosed location and to bring cash. Assuming she shows, that will be my final transaction. This weekend, I'm taking any remaining cans to the food bank and getting the hell out of the baby formula business. It's just too dangerous and I can't handle the stress.

I will, however, be auctioning off my children in the near future. Highest bidder wins. Cash only. You pick up. No refunds or exchanges or "buyer's remorse."