Saturday, September 16, the Wife and the Daughter held a yard sale. It wasn’t MY event, because I hate them. I hate pricing; I would be terrible on The Price Is Right. I hate haggling, which is why I’ve never been to Turkey.
So I had nothing to do with this event. Well, except schlepping things from the house to the front yard, and putting up some last minute fliers. Oh, and placing a free online ad a half hour after the event started when I realized they had made no sales whatsoever.
There were what someone calls the “looky loos”, those folks who drive up in front of the house and immediately ascertain that you have nothing of interest to them.
But we did get people. There was the guy who wanted to know if we believed in taking down statues, a snarky comment about our neighbor’s yard.
Then there was the woman who asked if “that man” was blind. The man was me, and I was sitting on the porch, wearing my sunglasses, which I often do when I’m outside. I was occasionally reading the newspaper, but evidently not then.
The older guy in the Harley outfit, vest, no T-shirt, with a beard that those guys from Duck Dynasty would envy, actually expressed interest in the headboard and bed frame we wanted to sell. But his “low rider” car wouldn’t have accommodated the furniture. Did he have friends who could help? They’re all “losers” with either no license or no vehicle.
One item we did sell was a desk that once belonged to the Daughter. My wife had brought it home in our previous car, but it would not fit in our current automobile. Fortunately, the woman with her two small boys lived only a couple blocks away. We put it in a sturdy plastic wheelbarrow upside down, and the Daughter and I delivered it to their tiny apartment.
But the most interesting person was the woman walking down the street carrying her high heels and a mostly-consumed bottle of whiskey. She said he had no money. But a minute later, she sat in one of our chairs and asked, “Is this a rocking chair? Because if this was a rocking chair, I’d buy it.”
Then she proclaimed, “You find a lot of strange people at a yard sale. And I’m one of them.” She was correct.
As it turned out, the Wife and Daughter grossed about $57. After spending $30 on an ad which may have generated few sales, they split the $27. Then, we schlepped the unsold items back in the house, yet another thing I hate about the yard sale, fortunately aided by our friend Jon. The home furnishings we’ll donate to a Habitat ReStore, the books to the local PTA.
I don’t have a comment as such—I just wanted to say how much I liked this post. But, then, you already know how much I like your “slice of everyday life” stories.