Anonymous:
I listed my son's old mountain bike on Facebook Marketplace for $50. A guy showed up an hour later in a rusted-out sedan. His work boots were held together with duct tape, and his hands were stained black with grease. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and started counting. It was two crumpled twenties and ten dollars in quarters. "It's my boy's tenth birthday," he said, wiping sweat off his forehead. "I've been picking up scrap metal all week after my shifts to get this.
He's never had a bike with gears before." I looked at the quarters sitting in his calloused palm. I thought about my own son, playing a $500 video game console inside the air-conditioned house. I pushed his hand back toward his chest. "Actually," I said, "I realized the brakes need a little adjusting. So it's free." Before he could argue, I went into the garage and grabbed my son's brand-new spare helmet and a heavy-duty bike lock. "Take these, too. A ten-year-old needs a helmet."
He didn't say a word. He just grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his eyes welling up. Sometimes, the best profit you can make on a sale is protecting a father's dignity.