The iPad looked to be in pristine condition, almost as good as new, except for a few scuff

marks on the screen. Nothing seemed broken on it, and the picture showed it working perfectly.

I knew as soon as I saw it that it had to be mine. Part of my brain told me that it was

too good to be true. $40 for a new iPad in mint condition? Something's going on here.

But the Cheapscape part of my brain won over, and eventually I found myself setting up a meeting

place for the purchase. Both me and the owner of the device agreed that the best place to meet up

would be at his house, since it was fairly close to my place and there was no good place to

rendezvous between my place and his. He did give me some design instructions when I arrived at

his house. His email told me to grab the iPad off the porch and slip the money under his dormat.

When I attempted to ask him why he couldn't just come out to talk to me, he didn't respond.

I should probably have had more doubts about the whole arrangement after that,

but I was so blinded by such a good deal that it didn't bother asking any more questions.

Soon enough, it came time to make the purchase. I drove the 15 minutes to his house,

which was in the decent enough neighborhood. The lawns were well-trained, and the houses look clean

and well cared for. As soon as I pulled into his driveway however, I could tell that my new business

partner's home was the exception. There were weeds growing through the cracks in the sidewalk,

and the front porch was covered in rental junk like chairs, radios and other assorted novelties.

I wondered why the homeowner's association wasn't until his ass by now.

As I near the door, I noticed a putrid smell coming from inside.

I made the exactive decision to hurry up and get out of here as fast as I could.

Resting upon the welcome mat was a glorious box that apparently held my new device.

I bought the $40 out of my pocket and slid it under the mat.

...