A cash-strapped 27-year-old, heartbroken over selling her prized Cowboy Bebop manga collection (limited edition) listed them on eBay starting at $75. A friend, citing birthday vibes, lowballed with $30, framing it as a favor.
The seller held firm, the friend bumped to $35, then lashed out, branding her a “choosing beggar” for refusing the cut-rate deal. The sting of betrayal turns a desperate sale into a friendship fracture.
This Reddit clash of collector passion, loyalty tests, and desperation pricing sparks debates on fair value, emotional worth, and whether hard times warrant discounted dreams.
Woman sells her collectibles cheaper than market price, friend can’t make a good deal with her, calls her a choosing beggar.
“Beggars can’t be choosers”, her friend said. But in this case, is this true at all? What’s more, is our Redditor a beggar at all?
Our seller’s buddy thought financial woe equaled fire-sale frenzy, offering pocket change for a prized five-volume Cowboy Bebop set worth $150-200 on the market.
The OP, already slashing her auction to $75 (what she originally paid), politely declined $30 and then $35, suggesting a fair bid instead. Boom. Accusations fly, and suddenly the seller’s the villain for protecting her wallet.
Flip the lens: The friend’s angle might stem from birthday panic or misplaced “helping hand” vibes. She sees a pal in need and figures a steep discount doubles as support: buy low, gift high, everyone’s happy?
But motivations scream opportunism when insults follow rejection. It’s classic lowball psychology: Exploit urgency, guilt-trip if it flops. Satirically speaking, if friendship came with price tags, this one’s marked “clearance rack” while demanding luxury treatment.
Zoom out to the bigger picture. Family and friend dynamics in tough times often breed these awkward haggling horrors. A 2023 Pew Research Center report on economic stress highlights how 41% of Americans face serious financial hardship, straining relationships as folks navigate support versus self-preservation. Here, the OP’s bind amplifies the tension. Selling beloved items isn’t a hobby, it’s survival.
Enter expert insight: In her Psychology Today interview, psychotherapist Esther Perel explains what sparks attraction amid vulnerability: “[It’s when] you see their wholeness. You see them as not needy and you see them radiating. So they are emanating something – generosity, kindness, joy, force, influence, persuasion – whatever it is. But you emanate something, you put something out there into the world when you radiate.”
Applied here, Perel’s words nail why the low offer stings: It flips empathy into entitlement, eroding trust. The friend could’ve countered with $100-120, saving on fees while honoring the seller’s research, win-win without the whiplash.
Neutral ground? Communication is key. OP could’ve softened with, “I get the birthday crunch, but this covers bills. Let’s find middle ground.”
For future flares, set boundaries early: “Market price or bust, rain check on favors.”
Broaden advice: In collectible circles, apps like eBay’s “Best Offer” prevent pal drama. Ultimately, weigh the item’s worth against the relationship’s – sometimes, blocking a leech preserves more than profit.
Here’s the comments of Reddit users:
Others label the friend as the choosing beggar for lowballing.
Some affirm OP’s right to set any price for personal items.
In the end, this manga mishap reminds us: Desperation doesn’t demand discounts, and real friends bid fair or bow out gracefully.
Do you think the Redditor’s firm stance was a power move or a friendship fumble?
Would you auction off treasures to a lowballing pal, or hit “block” faster than a speedrun?
How do you draw the line when money mixes with mates? Share your hot takes with us!
