selling on Craig's list in the age of covid-19

Almost two years ago I bought a new sofa. 

And for that same amount of time, I've been living with a coffee table I no longer like; it's too big for the sofa, and doesn't work aesthetically. 

But it's a piece of furniture that I once loved. I bought it at Bloomingdales. It was not inexpensive. And it still looks great. Just not in front of my sofa.

So a few weeks ago I decide to sell my coffee table on Craig's List. At first, I get the usual respondents: people who have a long, involved story about how they are willing to pay more but can't come in person but will send me a check. These people I ignore. But last night I get a simple email:

Hi is your coffee table on Craigslist still available for purchase?

Thanks,

Daniel

I answer yes. Daniel offers to buy it for less than I'm asking. I counteroffer. He accepts. Done. 

But the skeptic in me wonders if this is a legit offer. I ask Daniel if I can call him and he says yes.

I take that as a good sign.

We speak and he sounds totally normal and nice. He suggests coming over today. Before saying yes I ask a stupid question. "You're not sick are you?" 

Daniel and a friend stop by this afternoon. We don't shake hands. He both removes his shoes and keeps a safe distance from me — neither of which I request. This alone is reason to trust him.

He looks at the table. Likes it. Then takes out his phone and Venmos me the $365 we've agreed on.  

I ask him what kind of work he does. If my son were reading this blog (which he never does) he'd be rolling his eyes at my superfluous question.  Daniel smiles and looks almost embarrassed. "We're residents in anesthesiology." OMG, they're both doctors.

Before I say anything, Daniel adds, "But we haven't been around any coronavirus cases."

Daniel asks if I have a Clorox Wipe, which of course I do — like everyone else these days. 

He wipes down his new coffee table, says good-bye, and leaves. 

Seller and buyer are both happy.