Unexplored Territory

Sunday, June 11, 2006

We need 10 percent down on that layaway, please

A car pulls up to the curb, and a lady gets out and lets her 2 year old toddler out of the car. They walk across the street, and enter the world known as the Garage Sale. All bets are off.

"Do you have anything in a size 2T for little girls?" she throws at me.

I look up from my knitting and say "excuse me?"

"I am looking for 2T clothing for my daughter for the summer .... do you have any?"

"Well, it will be in those clothes over there ... you know ... the ones that look like kids' clothes."

"Oh well, I thought that you would know where the 2Ts are."

Hmmm.... let me think on this one. This is a garage sale. You are on my property, walking around my items, and you want ME to be your personal shopper? Get a grip. The stuff is marked anywhere from a quarter to a buck. Go crazy. Figure it out on your own. Don't tell me "well, my daughter is skinny and short ... do you have anything that would fit her?"

Oh and to the man who asked about the basket ... no you may NOT have a Longaberger basket for $ 2. Dave Longaberger was probably rolling in his grave as it was with what I had those things listed at. Don't insult Dave's legacy or my intelligence.

To the family who was out on their walk: first, don't make me trip all over myself trying to find an outlet in which to plug the computer monitor that you wanted to know was in "working condition" if all you were going to say in the first place was "I know this guy who is looking for one ... I will have to tell him about this." Second, TELL me that you didn't bring any money with you when you walk ON to my property ... that way I won't bust my ass on these things. Third, if you don't have money, don't pick things up. Seriously just don't. Don't get my daughter's hopes all up that your daughter is going to get my daughter's Junie B. Jones' books so she could add to her growing pot of money. And don't ask us to hold things for you when you aren't going to come back. That just ain't cool.

To the woman who wanted to know if the clock she was holding, the one that told the correct time, the one where the second hand was actually moving around the clock, was a clock that "worked well" .... seriously, woman. I have lost all faith in humanity if you can stand there with a working, fully-functional wall clock marked for $ 1 and ask if "the clock works good." I almost ran out into traffic over that one.

We will be known in this small town as the place where you can insult the intelligence of the property owners, put things on layaway, and initiate the services of your own personal shopper all in one stop! We could become famous.

Next year, I am serving margaritas to everyone.

1 Comments:

Anonymous said...: I've had one garage sale...just one. And I had pretty much the same exact experience as you, so I have sworn them off forever.; 11:23 AM

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I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.