To bid, or not to bid—that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the wallet to suffer The empty shelf-space of a missed listing, Or to take credit cards against a sea of sellers, And by outbidding, end them? To click, to buy— No more; and by a checkout to say we end The FOMO, and the thousand internal lectures That bank accounts are heir to. 'Tis a transaction Devoutly to be wished. To click, to buy— To buy, perchance to regret—ay, there’s the rub, For in that post-purchase panic, what guilt may come When we have entered our three-digit CVV, Must give us pause. There’s the respect That makes calamity of a high shipping fee. For who would bear the whips and scorns of snipe-bots, The seller’s delayed dispatch, the package gone missing, The pang of outbid notifications, the postal delay, The insolence of customs, and the spurns That patient buyers of the unworthy take, When he himself might his budget break With a single Buy It Now button? Who would parcels bear, To grunt and sweat under the weight of debt, But that the dread of something after delivery— The undiscovered credit card statement, from whose depths No financial recovery returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather keep the clutter we have Than fly to more items that we have no room for? Thus buyer's remorse does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of watching lists, And enterprises of great rarity and mint condition With this regard their auctions turn awry And lose the name of savings.—Soft you now! The pristine listing? Seller, in thy descriptions Be all my savings remembered...
