Why Selling Your Things At A Market Stall Is Actual Hell

selling

One of the (admittedly, many) things I don’t understand is people’s fascination with markets. Any market. Whether it’s food, flea or foreign. You know what I understand even less than said fascination? The people who actually volunteer their time to run market stalls. To me, fronting a stall and selling things sounds akin to torture, and it’s definitely not worth the petty cash.

I’d prefer to watch my Year 10 debutante ball video on repeat for the rest of my life rather than run a market stall. And that’s saying something, because I had purple hair and also fell down the entrance stairs (I’ve done a lot of self-improvement since then, FYI).

You’re probably reading this thinking ‘hmmm bit of hyperbole going on here, surely no one actually feels that strongly about markets’. But you’d be wrong. I do. Passionately. When I travel, this argument arises often. Many people my age find traipsing South East Asian marketplaces amongst a crush of other travelling humans to be a delightful way to spend an annual leave day. I disagree. I’d prefer to remain in my tiny concrete Cambodian airbnb yelling at the wifi to start working.

Anyway, it’s not like I can’t justify why I would never do a market stall. Oh no, I’ve got reasons. Here are six of them:

The indecently early wake-up

Do you actually know what time you have to get up in order to sell your measly belongings at a measly market stall? The answer is earlier than Satan. It’s indecent. It’s near-on blasphemous. If there was a god, she definitely wouldn’t be encouraging an alarm set for before the sun shines. Nope, no thank you. Hard pass. 

The probably terrible weather

When was the last time you went to a market and the weather was perfect? Can’t remember? That’s because it NEVER HAPPENS. You’re either perusing other people’s junk absolutely schvitzing or standing there freezing your balls off. And when you’re freezing your balls off, the line for coffee is always ridiculously long, too. Stay home, go to your regular cafe, flirt with the barista. That’s a much better idea. Thank me later. 

The haggling with weird people

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love weird people. I love all kinds of people. I just don’t want to haggle with them over the price of a 20-year-old troll doll at 6am on my one weekend off. In fact, at 6am on my one weekend off I don’t want to haggle with anyone. Not even my significant other, to be honest. Even his face annoys me in the mornings, and his is probably my favourite face. Just let me wallow in my own introvertedness, cheers. 

The quick maths

Nothing makes me break out in a sweat and need an anxiety poop more than the prospect of having to perform lightning-fast calculations in front of other humans. Oh god, no. Don’t make me do it. It’s basically a form of modern-day torture. And if you decide to host a market stall, then you will inevitably have to deal with petty cash and quick math and condescending people who can’t understand why it’s taking you so long to minus 7 from 20. 

The fact you can just use Gumtree for selling instead, duh

The numero uno reason why I will never do another market stall is basically because I don’t have to. That’s why we have online marketplaces, like Gumtree, where you can find second-hand goods for your house and garden. Because the internet is a wonderful, wonderful place. I don’t have to lug anything anywhere, I don’t have to deal with people face-to-face, I don’t have to get up early, I don’t have to wait in line for caffeine, and I definitely don’t have to do fast maths. Winner winner market dinner.

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