A few years back I began looking for a desk for my daughter on Craigslist. I found a cute one with a hutch that was really inexpensive in a town about 45 minutes north of me. I spoke to a man and he said that he and his wife would be there all night. He also told me that there was matching dresser I could have for a mere $10 more. I was thrilled! I set out in my mother's van with my special needs son.
We arrived and I left the car running because it was very cold outside. My son was instructed to stay in the van. I grabbed the money out of my purse and stuck it in my back pocket. When I got into the house, which was on a very poorly lit street, I realized the man was alone. He said his wife had left for the night. Not one to give up a bargain, I walked in and checked out the desk ad hutch that was in the dining room. He asked if I wanted to look at the dresser and I said I did. He then said it was in the basement.
I got about halfway down the basment steps before I realized it was a very bad idea. The man was behind me on the steps and as soon as I decided I should be creeped out he revved the drill that was in his hands (to take apart the hutch) and laughed when I jumped. He apologized and I decided whether I should run or keep going. Once again, the thought of a matching set for $40 made me press on. The dresser was in another room of the unfinished basement and he instructed me to open the door and go inside. I refused, thinking he would push me in there and lock me away forever. He went in first and I positioned myself between him and the stairs so I could run if I got weirded out. I told him I would take the dresser and he helped me get it up the stairs.
He went up the stairs first. We got about half way up with this incredibly heavy real wood dresser and he jokingly says, "Hope I don't drop this on you and trap you in the basement" and I nearly screamed in terror. Just then, I hear heavy footsteps upstairs in the house. He had said he was alone, I was certain that it was his partner in crime coming to kill me. I freaked out and began to sweat thinking I was going to die in this small town basement for a bargain! Then I thought of my son in the car, he had my purse and my cell phone. He would have no idea what to do if I didn't come out of the house. I began kicking myself for not bringing my cell phone into the house. Just as the foot stomping got closer, my son appears at the top of the steps. I was relieved it was his foot steps, but was mortified seeing him grabbing the back of his pants.
Here was my son, jumping up and down in a stranger's house saying "Mom, I am gonna poop my pants!" Thankfully the Craigslist
I did not die that day . . . except from embarrassment.