Tractorgate: The Morning After

The tractor wasn’t real. This guy is. (Salers, Cantal. Built like a tank. Zero scams detected.)

So.We didn’t get the tractor.Because — plot twist — it never existed.

Instead, we got a scam site, a fake address, and an accountant’s office moonlighting as a supposed depot. We got silence when we asked to come view the thing. And we got screenshots that read like a crime thriller written by someone who knows how to lift photos from auction websites.

But we also got something else.

We got instincts. My parents’, specifically.Because before the digging started, before the links were compared and the timelines unravelled, they had the feeling. That quiet little voice whispering, “Something doesn’t sit right.”

And you know what? They were right.So I sent them a message. In French. With Spiderman references. Because obviously.

Now fast forward to this morning.

I’m awake (kind of).I’ve had coffee (barely).And according to my sleep tracker, I logged 9 hours and 5 minutes, complete with deep sleep, REM cycles, core rest and 1 hour 21 minutes of being fully awake — which I assume was the segment where I played a dumb game on my phone in the dark instead of getting up like a functional adult.

But here’s the thing:I didn’t lose money.My parents didn’t fall for it.We still don’t have a tractor, but we do have something else — a kind of quiet win. A reminder that it’s okay to check, to question, to pause. To say “hmm” and follow the thread.

Even if it ends with you drinking coffee in bed, scrolling through sleep data, and wondering if you are now the suspiciously quiet one.