Friday, March 21, 2014

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times...

Alas, there is nothing on this blog that will remind you of Dickens other than my cribbing and truncating his famous first line.

Every quarter or so, our tract sponsors a community garage sale that is well-advertised and brings many people to the area.  I have never in my life held a garage sale, and by gum, I was determined to host one.  I had tons of baby and toddler items that needed new homes and I couldn't think of an easier way than to just unload them all at once! Genius ideas, these garage sales.

Except, I had heard some grumblings from my neighbors about some of the people who come and try to nickel and dime you to death, as well as maybe not be the most wholesome people around.

In my naivete, I assured myself that MY garage sale would be different.  I happen to have a 6'1'' hunk of former linebacker in my corner, so I thought people would at least think twice before pulling any shenanigans.

Boy, was I wrong.

In the first ten minutes, someone stole one of the toys I had out.  Just flat out stole!  She asked me how much this really big truck that was formerly remote-controlled, but since I lost the controller, was now just a big truck.  Oh, how about a dollar, I said.  She hoisted it up and strode to her vehicle (which was nicer than either of ours) and straight up didn't pay for it.  I told Hubba-hubba, "Did she pay you?" as she got in to her sports utility vehicle.
 "Nope," he said.
"Well," my voice verging on hysteria, "then she didn't pay for it!"

And that was just the beginning of the parade of shady, weird people who tried to bargain me down from three dollars to two dollars for brand new dresses with TAGS STILL ON THEM.  You cannot even walk into a Goodwill store and pay two dollars for a pretty dress with tags on them.  They seemed to be of the mindset that if they couldn't command their own lower price, no matter how good my price was, they were having none of it.  Fine with me.  This went on all day long.  If they couldn't have something for a buck, they didn't want it, even if it was worth fifty and I was only asking ten.

Then, a group of people drove up and wanted to buy a five dollar item.  They pulled out a hundred dollar bill and asked Hubba-hubba, who was in charge of the money, if he had change for it.  As he is in law enforcement and has seen a counterfeit bill or two in his time, he said no, he didn't.  He said it was a pretty good fake, but fake nonetheless.  Imagine, if that had been me, I would have fallen for that hook, line, and sinker.  Then we would be out almost all of our profit and they get almost a hundred dollars tax free! 

I think I just found my new part-time job.  If I only did that four times in one weekend, I would be making almost four hundred dollars a week!  That is some pretty good money! 

Of course I will do nothing of the sort, but I just don't understand that sort of criminal mindset.  Why people don't give a shit about victimizing people.  Hey, maybe your life is hard, but what makes you think my life isn't hard, too?  Just because I might (or not!) live in a nicer house than you, or you think I may have more than you, that means you can steal from me?  I'm no one-percenter, I need everything I can get!

People suck.

We called it quits after about three hours and felt like we needed to take showers, both literally and figuratively.   Hubba-hubba said he was upset that those type of people were in his neighborhood.  I agreed, and vowed never to have another garage sale as long as I live.  I would rather donate each and every item than have to deal with that kind of crap again.

The next day was my birthday and my sister-in-law had offered to babysit.  Whoo-hoo! We did something completely uncharacteristic of us and went to this bar to have some delicious drinks.  OH MY GOD, my chosen drink was so good. I had the Piranha Pool, which is one of those very deceptive drinks that are so sweet that you cannot taste the alcohol.  I had two, which left me a very happy, relaxed person.  I can't even remember the last time we went to a bar to have a drink, probably fifteen years ago or so.  We don't drink a lot to begin with, and if we do, we usually pour something here at home. 

But that had to be one of the most fun days we have had in a very long time, which was much needed, especially after the previous day being such a complete downer. 

Apparently I need to drink more often.



4 comments:

Anvilcloud said...

I have never been interested having or visiting a garage sale. In fact, I put a 'b' in the middle of the word.

I don't have tons of $ to give away, but I figure I can at least donate old items. We have freecycle locally, and I have moved a few items to grateful recipients thru it.

Kelley @ magneto bold too said...

I had a garage sale once.
Once.
NEVER. EVER. AGAIN.
We had people turn up at FIVE AM. And then 2 days later... like you, I would rather just donate the stuff now.

And happy birthday my friend, sorry I missed it xxxxxxx

Nance said...

I do a garage sale twice a year with my brother at his lake community. It is very controlled, with no one getting past the gate until 9 AM.

The patrons are mostly decent people, but yes, the amount of bargaining is ridiculous, to the point of someone offering me a dime for a twenty-five cent item.

The Amish community especially are unwilling to pay the stated price. This is a given if it is a married couple, since the husband uses it as a way to impress his wife. (This was told to us by an Amish woman.)

It can be irritating, but for the most part, it's minor. I'd never in a million years have one at my own home, though, and neither would my brother.

Happy Birthday! I'm glad you had a grownup night out and had fun. You certainly deserve it...and more often.

Awesome Mom said...

I am glad you had a good birthday. I will attend garage sales and pay the prices with out haggling but I don't ever want the horror of hosting my own. I donate things freely since I have been very blessed with material possessions. Also most of the clothing I donate came from the thrift store in the first place.