Yesterday I sold our crib on craigslist. We purchased it from craigslist and craigslist enabled us to return the favor.

Polina hardly slept in it. She would sleep in it when I transferred her after she fell asleep (which could take several tries), but it didn’t last long. More times than not, I ended up putting her on the futon on the floor and sleeping next to her. Eventually, it was easier to put her next to me from the start than have her cry in her crib just as I was dosing off. 

We purchased the crib used from craigslist for $60. I had a hard time lowering Polina into the crib because of my back. The railing pressed upon my abdomen, and my back hurt from the strain. My husband converted it to a drop-down crib.

The materials cost about $10. The actual work involved the entire weekend. I posted the crib on craigslist for $70. I was happy when the young couple purchased the crib and “we got our money back.”

Pete was more pragmatic. “We didn’t get our money back. We lost money.”

I didn’t fully take into account his labor. I just figured Pete did it for free, but it did take up his weekend. How much is that worth?

I was glad for the young couple that bought our crib. At least it could be put to good use.   The guy had tattoos on his arm. His wife said she was 35 weeks pregnant with their son. They said they too have a small apartment. They sounded educated (which raises the question of what is so special about this city that even educated people can’t afford ample living quarters, but that’s another story.)

Pete explained the changes he had made, and after looking at the crib briefly (and I mean, briefly– she just jiggled one side. Me, I’d be poring over every tooth mark.) they forked over $70, and in that moment I was very happy to have sold it for $10 more than I paid for it initially. That was before Pete told me that we had actually lost money.

So I began contemplating what, if anything, I would have done differently, and this led me to the heart of sales.

Wealthy people, it seems to me, are somehow involved in sales. Is there any other way? And being wealthy from sales means you have to take more from the people that are buying. We’re not talking about at cost. We’re talking about way above cost, right?

And so I thought, do I have the heart to take a lot from people? And the short answer to that question is no. I’m happy with meeting my costs. This, it seems to me, is very Russian, which I am.

I remember when I was living in Moscow in the mid-90s and buying a jar of jam from a person informally assembled with other grocers on a busy street near Kievskiy Station.  These “grocers” were mostly people from the countryside or people that grew things on their dachas.   I purchased these delicious jams for what seemed like a pittance, not more than the cost of the jar they came in.

I asked the seller why they were so inexpensive. He replied that it didn’t cost much to make the jam. I realized that they didn’t value their time picking berries and making the jam. They viewed the berries, which they got from the forest, and their time making the jam as “free.” They only marked it up slightly from the cost of the jar, just enough to get some spending money for themselves.

And they were happy about it.

How cynical Americans are in comparison. In America, revenue growth is a sign of good leadership. Wealth (the legal way, of course) is positively correlated with admiration, respect, and, in some cases, virtual sainthood (i.e. Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, etc.)

So it all made me wonder if I could really, looking eye to eye with someone, sell my product (or any product for that matter) for more than its cost. It doesn’t come naturally to me. My natural inclination is to work hard and be rewarded. By whom? By the patrons of sales.

Damn. I’ve got to work on that one.

Originally written October 6, 2013.