Why even do it? Why punish myself by even having a garage sale? Well, geniuses as we are, we bought a house sans storage. We moved from a house with a full attic and basement to one with neither. It's really a good thing, mostly. I mean, I no longer have to take two flights of stairs to a dungeon full of boxes of unused who-knows-what to do the laundry. Basements are spider and dust ridden nastiness from wall to cold concrete wall. Attics are cool, I guess. The thing is, the more storage space you have the more you tend to store. We had a lot of space and we lived there 11 years. Enough said.
So, I've had a sale for four days, three weeks in a row. The first few days were actually kind of nice in that I made a killing and met all of my neighbors, all of which I like. The next few days I made less and saw a lot of the same people over and over. I'd forgotten their names, so I felt awkward talking to them, all the while wondering what to call them, if anything, and in what house near me they lived. The days passed such that each got less prosperous. I think I made over $200 the first day. Today, I made $6. There's new stuff out all the time, too, so it's not that my stuff is too picked over. I think everyone in the entire small town has been here a few times already. It's really too bad, too, 'cause I still have so much to sell. I don't care so much about the money as I do about getting rid of the stuff we can no longer use or store. I can't donate it ALL, though. Some of it is too pricey and or priceless. People have said they'd come back for the big ticket items and of course they didn't.
Then there's the thieves. My sister wanted me to put out some of her stuff. There still is a camera she wants $100 for and a bracelet she wants $42 for. One bracelet already sold. The third was lifted right out from under me. Some older woman who was dressed so expensively and stylishly came. She was interested in one of the bracelets. She asked me how to do the clasp. I showed her. I put it on her and feigned delight at how it lit up her wrist. She took it off, put it back, and continued to shop. She ended up buying a lot of small stuff. I bagged it all and tallied her bill. She chatted nicely and I never thought. I took it one tragic step too far. I decided she needed a rubber band on the board game she bought so as to not lose all of the pieces. I told her I'd be right back. No one was there. I'd just be a second for a rubber band. Nope. I couldn't find one and quickly gave up figuring tape would have to do. I returned to her side to take the cash and give her the bag. She was terribly cordial in a classy way. I enjoyed chatting with her as sitting there all day is crazy boring. She left. I felt good that I'd sold a bunch. I decided to busy myself by rearranging the stock to cover up the empty spaces that her purchases left. DOH! I saw right then- the bracelet was gone. The very one she'd fawned over. Son of a bitch! I'd just been taken by an old lady who could buy and sell me a few times over. I felt terrible. I called my sister in Georgia to explain the tragedy and apologize. I felt like hell for letting that happen. I contrived all of these ideas to track her down and accuse her, but none of them were logical. It was just a lame attempt to make myself feel better. Now the cameras and last bracelet are in the house. A sign tells people to ask me to see the big ticket items. Nobody even reads it.
People are idiots. My driveway is probably 150' long, right? Ok. Well, at the very end of it is the two+ car garage packed FULL of items for sale. The stock ranges from Syracuse China to socks. You know, people will actually slow down and make a rolling stop out front as if seeing my wares and discounting them all from 150'. I had no idea people in these parts had x-ray vision. They need a way to market that. Then there are the men. Why do men go to garage sales? Good question. I can't answer it. They sometimes ask up front if I have certain items: hunting and fishing goods, stamps, postcards, old gold, tools and electronics. I can respect that. I often know just what I want and asking is logical. Why not take a quick peek, though? What if I have something you didn't know you needed? Then there're the men who just stand outside the entrance to the garage glaring in before returning to their car. The rest of the men revolve around any electronics I have, no matter how lame and old they are. None buy much of anything. The women are slobs. They fondle everything that is laid out with precision for the best possible display, putting nothing back the way they find it. They put back $1 items because they're too expensive yet they'll go to the dollar stores and load up a cart full of crap. Nobody ever looks over the inventory well enough to see everything. I especially like the people who survey half of the garage, seemingly interested, only to leave without even glancing at the other half. One guy had the balls to ask me to take $5 for a stand my uncle made me by hand. I'd labeled it $10. That's a deep discount, is it not? I paused and gently replied that I'd gladly do $7 but not less. He said, "Nope. $5." I said, "Sorry." He said, "I'm walking away!" as if to scare me into taking $5 for this priceless piece of my childhood that would surely serve anyone well for years to come. I said, "Ok, then, have a nice day." Inside my mind, I said, "Leave fast before I slash your tires, Asshole!"
Over all, garage sales are a big fat pain in the back side. I don't recommend anyone have one. However, if you happen to stop at one, be respectful of the poor slob who has to sit there all day. Look the stuff over well, don't haggle about ridiculously low prices, and put things back how you find them.
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