The Electric Bike Facebook Scam

The Electric Bike Facebook ScamThe Electric Bike Facebook Scam


The Electric Bike Facebook Scam

Nobody likes to play the part of a fool, especially when lured hook line and sinker by a fraudulent Facebook ad that any reasonably smart person could see was too good to be true.To get more news about Fat Tire Electric Bikes, you can visit official website.

I blame Facebook for allowing the problem ad on its site in the first place, as well as all kinds of other dubious ads that I’ve fallen for, like the snazzy yellow shoes I bought last year that came from China in a plastic bag, and were literally made of cardboard with fuzzy faux suede sprayed on, and the baby-crib hammock I ordered for my nephew and his wife’s new baby, which looked like a Dollar Tree shop towel.To get more news about electric bikes for adults, you can visit official website.

As an aside, you know what I’ve noticed? Sometimes the more polished and enticing the Facebook ads, the bigger the ripoff they are. They invest a little on the front end to create impressive ads, and then end up selling supremely shitty merchandise, or not following through with delivery at all.To get more news about fat tire electric bike for sale, you can visit official website.

I also blame Facebook for being in cahoots with Google that then pimped out my search information to Facebook regarding my recent research about electric bikes.

Granted, I’d never been interested in an e-bike before, but then the world fell apart in March, and I was all cooped up. Suddenly, an electric bike seemed like exactly what I needed, when I wasn’t making sourdough starter, sourdough bread, and using gallons of the vodka I didn’t drink to make homemade grapefruit liqueur and vanilla.

I live in west Redding, which is pretty hilly, and my bike-riding fantasy entailed me breezing along on my enviable motorized bicycle with the cute basket on the front filled with flowers, wine and the requisite French baguette, as the the wind blew the hair beneath my beret. My fantasy did not entail me huffing and puffing, sweating and swearing as I trudged up Shasta Street pushing a fat-tired beach cruiser.

During this pandemic lock down, I’ve read a lot about electric bikes. I’ve learned there’s no shame in riding an e-bike, because despite what some people may think, electric bikes are not a lazy way to ride. On the contrary. Studies show that people get more exercise and ride bikes more often when they have the pedal-assist electric bikes, because they’re not afraid of encountering hills, so they’re inclined to use their bikes and get out more. Made sense to me.

The bike I had my eye on was the RadWagon 4, in orange, which is technically a cargo . I planned to get a little accessory seat with side handles so my grandkids could ride on the back, if their parents allowed it, and I don’t know why they wouldn’t since I have sound judgement. Besides, I raised three kids, so I know a bit about children and bicycles.The bike is being sold online only with free shipping, all for $1,499, which was $100 off if I pre-ordered it, though it wouldn’t be delivered until August or September. I was cool with that, because my bike would arrive after the worst of Redding’s heat was behind us, just in time for lovely fall bike rides around my neighborhood. Colorful leaves would be falling, the air would be turning crisp, and surely by then we’d awaken from this nightmare that is the COIVD-19 crisis and return to our normal, wonderfully boring lives again.

Here’s how the RadWagon 4 Cargo Bike was described: This is a next-level hauler designed for those who are loading up to go somewhere, whether that’s taking the kids on a trip across town or a weekend visit to the hardware store or farmer’s market. With a standover height 2.4 inches lower than its predecessor and a 750W geared hub motor, the RadWagon 4 is in it for the long haul.

OK, never mind that I’ve never ridden a bike across town in my life, let alone for a trip to the farmers market or hardware store, but somehow, because the world is so insane right now, the improbable is possible.

I planned to invest my stimulus check (thank you, coronavirus) in my RadWagon purchase, but that didn’t happen because I had to get all practically grown-up and spend that money and more on a big-ass fence on three sides of my property, which is another story in itself.

Anyway, I abandoned the idea of my RadWagon, until June 29, when a slick ad popped up on Facebook one night that drew me in. Normally, I’m pretty skeptical and wary and careful. I blame my lapse in judgement on the coronavirus, since it’s got me all discombobulated.

I was transfixed by this well-designed ad that included a video that offered this electric bike for just $89.99. What? Electric bikes can easily run into the thousands of dollars. I couldn’t believe it. Except I did. Why? Because I wanted to, just like I want COVID-19 to crawl into whatever nasty hole it emerged, curl up and die.

That $89.99 Facebook ad seems to have disappeared, but on the evening of June 29 there were hundreds of comments from incredulous people like me asking things like, “Why is this bike so inexpensive?” to which the e-bike folks responded quickly and professionally to every single question, sometimes patiently repeating answers. They explained that the electric bike was a limited-time introductory offer for this particular new brand. Plus, shipping was free! Wow. Who’s the lucky girl? As I read all the comments I got caught up in the frenzy of excited people saying, “I just ordered my bike! I’m getting the red one!”