About Me (Us)
TL;DR for those in a hurry & those who refuse to read
My name is Marek, I'm based in Hanover, and I sell used media. I pack them so thoroughly that customers complain about the tape in their reviews. My wife thought it was excessive at first.
She helps me pack now.
If you want to know more, keep reading. If not, scroll down to the statistics. That’s where the definitely more interesting stuff is.
The long version, once upon a time...
I always wanted my own shop. That’s not a founder’s cliché; it’s a childhood thing.
I grew up in a household where things were repaired. First, see if it still works. Then, get the screwdriver out. And only when absolutely nothing else helped was something thrown away. This became second nature, which led to me spending seventeen years in the industry: mechanical engineering, state-certified technician, quality control, shift work. Seventeen years at the same company. Half my life.
Why I left has little to do with me.
My wife moved to Germany for me, leaving everything behind in Poland: her apartment, job, family, and friends. She brought a university degree and the willingness to start all over again.
In the town of 80,000 people where we lived at the time, neither of those helped her. With a Polish name and a Polish resume, she couldn't get beyond temp work—not because she lacked anything, but because hardly anyone wanted to go to the trouble of verifying her credentials. She had to take a lot of flak for a decision she had made for my sake.
Eventually, it became clear to me: We’re going to Hanover. Bigger city, more doors. And this time, it’s my turn—this time I’m giving up everything for her. For a year, I commuted to my old job from there. 120 kilometers each way, an hour and a half if things went well. Plus shift work. Anyone who has done that knows that eventually, you just drive and sleep.
Then I drew a line under it. By mutual agreement, without resentment, after half my life.
The job market in Hanover was, let’s say, less than thrilled by my arrival. So, I took stock of what I had: an old hobby, an even older dream, and a pinch of "no risk, no fun." That became ReturnTreasures. Honestly, I didn't expect much from it.
What I expected the least was that the packaging would become the thing I'm known for.
It started as an annoyance. I had been ordering things myself for years, and what arrived was sometimes impressive: a Blu-ray in a cut-up cereal box. A CD in the bag that used to hold frozen peas. Once, a game loose in a supermarket plastic bag, knotted at the top—done. Nothing was broken. But every time, I thought the same thing: this could be done better.
When I started myself, it wasn't a question anymore, but the point where I refused to let anyone have anything bad to say about my work.
At the beginning, my wife said nobody cared how I taped up a package or what stickers went on it. Objectively, she was right, yet she was completely wrong. Today, the reviews say the hardest part of the purchase was getting the tape off. That is the most beautiful complaint I can imagine.
Now we pack as a team. When listing items, I crank up 90s and 2000s hip-hop. When packing, it’s quiet, because we need to talk and because zero errors mean zero errors. That’s the part I brought with me from the industry: a process that works isn't art. It’s just doing it the same way every time.
What I sell, I check myself beforehand. What isn't listed as a defect, isn't one. And if you ask something, I answer—there is no ticketing system or hold queue here.
The most important thing for me is the human aspect. Respect, trust, kindness. Not seller to customer, but human to human. Nostalgia fan to collector. The little Marek in my heart to the child who is still sitting somewhere inside every one of you out there.
In the end, it’s not far off from the workshop of my childhood. First, see if it still works.
Most of the time, it still does.
Numbers nobody asked for, but which exist anyway
Tape used since January: 40 rolls. At 50 meters per roll, that’s exactly 2 kilometers. Accurate to the meter, which makes me happier than it should. The trend is rising. My wife has stopped commenting on it. (As of: September 2026)
Largest shipment to date: an African lamp. 1.50 meters tall, over 10 kilos. It arrived safely. I needed a break afterward.
Packages per month: more every month than the month before. Since day one. I didn't plan it; I just regularly notice it with surprise.
Item with the longest shelf time: Flat Eric. He is not for listing. He is also not up for discussion.
Research time per item: somewhere between two minutes and significantly too long. Some records pull me in so deeply that afterward, I know more about the pressing than about my own calendar.
Parking tickets from dropping off packages: collected like trading cards. Unintentionally, but consistently. (As of: 5 tickets / September 2026)
13 pieces of useless knowledge about me
Fact 1:
I collect science fiction books that I firmly intend to read. Currently 65 of them. Exclusively hardcover, exclusively unread.
Fact 2:
Once a month, I buy something completely irrational and let my inner child decide. It then sits in the office. Currently: Turtles, Batman, a newspaper-reading Spider-Man on my monitor, and a Minecraft pixel lantern.
Fact 3:
I have a 3D printer. I have never used it. We share a friendly silence.
Fact 4:
As a child, I accidentally vacuumed up my budgie. He survived it unscathed. I needed longer.
Fact 5:
For years, I was afraid of dragonflies because as a child I believed they could kill with a sting. I know better now. The fear, however, remains.
Fact 6:
My arachnophobia, on the other hand, I have cured: by holding a tarantula on my arm at an insect exhibition. I never told the dragonfly.
Fact 7:
My wife is a Harry Potter nerd. I am more of a Muggle. We’ve come to an arrangement.
Fact 8:
When listing, 90s and 2000s hip-hop is playing, loud. When packing, there is silence. Both have a reason.
Fact 9:
My wife assembles used puzzles once completely before sale so that I can truly guarantee they are complete. No matter the motif, no matter the number of pieces. Sometimes she even enjoys it.
Fact 10:
Video games are my thing, science fiction preferred. Anything that lands in the shop in this category has been wistfully looked at by me at least once. My heart says yes, my wife says: "Never!"
Fact 11:
If she says no, I sometimes just deliberately don't list the items. That’s my inner compromise. They aren't where I would like them to be—but I know they are there.
Fact 12:
I’m on a first-name basis with my mail carrier. At the parcel shop, I’m greeted with "Bro." It’s still too early for "Boss." I earned all of that the hard way.
Fact 13:
I regularly thank the garbage collector for his work. In a trade that consists of cardboard boxes, film, and tape, that’s not politeness; it’s appropriate.
The statistics (the promised more interesting part)
