While Chris was driving a car to Texas, I helped Mom with the garage sale. Talk about boring! Mom received most of her business on Thursday and by Friday, it was slow going. My sister was there for the rush of Thursday. She spent the whole day helping Mom fight the crowd, but on Friday it was slooow.
Sometime during the day this man stopped by. My mom was making a bowl on her potter’s wheel and was in the back of the garage where she couldnât be seen. I said “hello” to the large man while he violently flipped through a stack of aluminum folding lawn chairs. He looked up at me, pointing with his index finger and said âYou sold me a chair yesterdayâ?. I looked back at Mom because I thought he was talking to her. The guy then said âIâm talking to youâ? (again, pointing at me). âYou sold me one of these chairs with a coverâ? he said rather belligerently. My Mom came out from the back of the garage at this point and told him âIt would have been kind of hard for her to have sold you a chair yesterday, when she wasnât even hereâ?. The man stopped for a second and then started complaining because the fabric stuff on the chair was ârotted right throughâ?. Mom asked him what he expected for fifty cents and told him that he could buy replacement seating at Wal-Mart. He left.
First of all, the guy got Janell and I confused. Except for our height, we donât look anything alike. Secondly, Cletus-The-Slack-Jawed-Yokel could have looked at those chairs and seen that the fabric on them was rotten. We were essentially selling the metal frame (for a freakinâ fifty cents!). I donât know what that guy expected when he came back. Were we supposed to give him back his two quarters (even though he didnât bring back the chair)? What an ass!
Iâve decided that garage sales are not worth the time and effort. From now on, all unwanted crap is being hauled off to Goodwill or thrown in the trash. In fact, this week, Iâm clearing out the house. Itâs purging time.
I truly despise garage sales for exactly that reason. There’s always several insane old men that think a freakin’ dime is too much to pay for ANYTHING. A guy at our last one asked us if we’d give him these two huge bolts (marked 50 cents) for free if he bought this huge antique tackle box full of old slightly valuable tackle (which we had marked for $25 and wanted to try to sell here first before trying ebay). B thought, “Yeah, that sounds reasonable.” The guy hands him a quarter. So not only did the man think an entire box of antique tackle was only worth 25 cents, but he wanted us to give him 50 cent items for FREE for buying one 25 cent item??? (B of course, turned down the offer.)
I know, it’s insane. People will buy things for easily ten times that amount at a freakin’ thrift store, but put it on a table in someone’s yard, and in their minds, the value goes down. I don’t barter with people at garage sales for exactly that reason; I’ve been through enough myself to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end. Like you, Cindy, I’d rather just give my stuff away to Goodwill than have strangers pick over it with a disdainful attitude.