Last week, a woman found herself in a familiar internet tale: the classic Craigslist scam. She was on the hunt for a washing machine and thought she found a steal. The seller was quick, convincing, and seemed to go the extra mile, even hanging around for a few minutes to ensure the machine was in good working condition. After a brief check and a cash exchange of $400, she felt pleased with her purchase. That is, until the thing stopped working halfway through the rinse cycle.

Frustration quickly set in as she realized she’d been duped. She spent hours pouring over online tutorials, trying to troubleshoot the broken machine. Every click and every video only confirmed that the washing machine was just a heap of junk. With every failed attempt at repair, her irritation grew—especially since she had the seller’s countless questions echoing in her mind, “What gives?”
To make matters worse, her attempts to reach out to the seller were met with radio silence. He had ghosted her, leaving her to stew in her anger and disappointment. But instead of wallowing, she found a new spark of determination. She’d do a little digging and get her revenge on this Craigslist crook.
After a bit of online sleuthing, she discovered the seller had multiple listings for various broken appliances. This guy clearly had a warehouse full of junk he was passing off as usable goods. Inspiration struck; she decided to use a burner email to contact him once more. Acting as a new potential buyer, she feigned interest in purchasing two dryers.
“Can you deliver them to me?” she asked, knowing full well that she lived a good 40 miles away from him. To her surprise, he replied quickly, his eagerness apparent. When she mentioned she was willing to pay extra for delivery, she could practically see dollar signs flashing in his eyes.
They settled on a meeting spot in a shopping center parking lot at 3 PM, right during peak rush hour. She smiled to herself, already imagining how the tables had turned. The next day, she got a message from him confirming their appointment, and she reassured him they were still on.
As the clock ticked closer to the meeting time, she received a message from him stating he was almost there. “Perfect,” she thought. “I’ll just tell him I’m running late.” She didn’t just leave it at that; she made it a point to let him know the traffic was terrible and promised she was just about 20 minutes out. The scammer, clearly feeling impatient, kept sending updates, wanting to know when she would arrive.
Each time he messaged, her sense of satisfaction grew. At around 3:45 PM, he fired off a text asking if she was almost there yet. With a cheeky grin, she replied that she was still fighting through traffic but that he could start unloading the dryers to speed things up. She could almost hear his eye-roll through the screen.
Finally, at 4:30 PM, after numerous messages and plenty of frustration on his end, he sent a parting message declaring he was leaving—and heading back into the dreadful traffic. She felt a wave of glee wash over her; she had successfully wasted the scammer’s time. Her $400 loss stung less knowing he had just spent nearly two hours in traffic for nothing.
Her triumph wasn’t about the money, nor was it about getting even in the traditional sense. It was about the satisfaction of turning the tables on a scammer and making him sweat. She had taken a moment that could have been mired in defeat and turned it into a playful act of petty revenge. She might have lost the battle with the washing machine, but she felt like she won the war against the scammer.
More from Cultivated Comfort:
- 7 Vintage Home Items From the ’60s That Are Collectors’ Dream Finds
- 7 Vintage Home Goods That Became Collectors’ Gold
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- 7 Frozen Dinners That Were Better Back in the Day

