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Posts tagged ‘espresso machine’

Model of delicious loveliness

Trademe brings out my competitive nature which, as anyone who knows me KNOWS, is venomous and occasionally deadly. Since battering my rivals into submission with $20 to win an espresso machine, I have successfully bidded on a leather motorbike jacket ($10), a Fairydown waterproof top ($10), a Monsoon silk blouse ($9), and a pink leopard faux fur square ($5). And a few other sundries.

I spend a lot of time on the site, although not as much as Husband would have you believe. I think it worth mentioning that, if you count his motorbike, he has spent wads more wazoo on Trademe than I have. 

I have had some negative experiences. I purchased a Sean O’Casey book from a woman who did not provide bank account details and tried to claim her $0.03 success fee back from Trademe. When she finally answered my third email, she charged me $4.50 for shipping – or 2.5 times the cost of the book – but when I received the package, she had bunged a $1.00 stamp on it that she had probably steamed off another letter.

After a trade, the buyer/seller exchanges feedback. Generally people stick with the yellow smiley face, because if you give someone a red angry face, they might retaliate which will affect your rating. So even though I wanted to give this woman feedback along the lines of: ‘This trader is not to be trusted!!!!!!!!! Timewaster!!!!!!!!!! Probably tortures kittens!!!!!!!!!!’, I resisted.

Recently, I kept my nerve during tense stand-off to win a pair of size 10 Levis stretch bootcut jeans for $5.50. Here is the feedback the seller gave me:-

‘Thank you for the trade.’

“That’s not feedback!” I shouted at Husband. “She’s trying to pass off the bare minimum of manners as feedback! It really MONKS ME OFF!”

“Gosh,” said Husband, “you get really annoyed with someone thanking you, don’t you?”

“Well, in this context, YES! I am a fabulous trader, a model of delicious loveliness. If the trader automatically provides their bank account details, I pay as soon as I win the auction. I send an email to confirm payment. I am all, ‘Hi, I hope you are the grandest, many kind regards, please accept this complimentary set of tuning forks-‘”


“Oh, don’t be so literal. And then this SLAG has the GALL- the AUDACITY- to say THANK YOU! But I showed her.”

“What – did you give her negative feedback?”

“Not exactly. But I said – get this. I said, ‘thanks for the trade’.”

“But isn’t that the same as her feedback?”

“No! She said, ‘thank you for the trade’, but I said ‘THANKS for the trade’. See how she likes that!”

“Yeah honey, you really showed her.”

When they arrived, the jeans were not only dirty rotten fakes, they were an American size 10 i.e. four sizes too big for me.

I added the trader to my blacklist, which resulted in such inner satisfaction that you can expect a lot more small minded pettiness out of me

More maintenance

Me: I had to fix the espresso machine as well-

Husband: Don’t tell me. It sheared in two, so you went down to Mitre 10 and purchased some heavy industrial machinery and a mask, and welded it back together in the kitchen. And now it works perfectly.

Me: You know, sarcasm doesn’t suit you at all.

Husband: Ok, what was wrong with it?

Me: After your whole shearing/welding scenario, it sounds a bit lame. Er, ah, well, so there was water leaking around the filter.

Husband: Maybe you were packing the coffee too tightly-

Me: I considered that, so I tried packing the coffee loosely, but it was still leaking; so I tried half-filling the filter, but that didn’t work either; so I filled it right up in case there was too much pressure building up in the space at the top. Then I cleaned the head and ran water through the machine to dislodge any burnt coffee grounds, and then I scrubbed the O-ring even though it appeared to be fine-

Husband: Wow, you really considered the options.

Me: I did! I objectively analysed the problem and applied logic and guile to test and eliminate the issues according to cause probability. So then I emailed Breville’s Customer Support-

Husband: Really?

Me: Yeah, but all they did was write back and ask what model it was. Useless bastards.

Husband: When did you contact them?

Me: This morning.

Husband: You expect a lot from your customer support, don’t you?

Me: I just don’t see why they can’t support customers, as per their job description.

Husband: Fair enough. So-

Me: Well, I’m still waiting to hear from them. But I managed to fix it in the meantime-

Husband: For the love of God, HOW?

Me: Changed the brand of coffee.

Husband: . . .

Me: It was too fine a grind, so I’ve gone back to Robert Harris. Seems to have done the trick.

Husband: You’re a genius.

Me: I’m pretty special


Haze: You brought an espresso machine – on a ski weekend?

Me: Indeed. By the way, there are terms and conditions surrounding its use.

Haze: Oh?

Me: Yes. You can have coffee as long as you don’t mock me. However, if you mock me for bringing an espresso machine along with a measuring spoon and tamper and milk frothing jug, you don’t get coffee.

Haze: No problem. Nige, is that ok with you?

Nige: Absolutely.

Me: John will be torn.

John: I’m torn



Bidding on waffle irons for the adrenaline rush

Husband and I have both embraced Trademe, to the extent that I have been known to spend half a day bidding on waffle irons just for the adrenaline rush. What a fabulous site – although I’ve had an item listed for two weeks now and only one bid. Think I need to work on my marketing:

After a week in our new house, I bid for an espresso machine and won a Breville Café Roma Espresso machine for $20 – bargain! (Let’s overlook the fact that I spent about three times that in petrol picking it up.) I emailed the seller informing her that, being freshly arrived in the country, I had no furniture and considered an espresso machine a compulsory appliance even if we had to sit on the floor and drink out of our hands.

Bless her, she threw in two cups.

Everyone has been wonderfully welcome and I am so thankful. Having no friends, I think I project a sort of pathetic neediness that people respond to. Whenever I pick up something I won on Trademe – a dehumidifier, a car, a laundry basket – I have to hold back from inviting myself in: “How about coffee and a scone? If you don’t have scones, just coffee would be fine, or tea or a glass of water. Will you be my friend? I’m very loyal. How about an acquaintance then? PLEASE? All right! I’m letting go of your leg, there’s no need to, you know. Kick it.”

The Joneses

Things have been pretty quiet since the revelries of the holiday season. My obsession with home appliances continues; we recently acquired a coffee making machine which looks like it has more business taking pictures of the surface of Mars than sitting on our kitchen bench spitting out coffee. Husband said:


“Isn’t it a bit BIG for a coffee machine?”


(I’ve noticed he’s been very preoccupied with size recently.)


I am distressed that post-marriage, Andrew still fails to acknowledge the importance of Keeping Up With The Joneses. Not that we know any Joneses, but if we did, our coffee machine would show them what’s what. The fact that it takes up half our kitchen makes our apartment look a bit pathetic, but that’s another matter

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