Yard Sale Adventures

I was committed to hosting one ("Location, location, location!") but not actually ready for it. The day arrived, however... and at some point, you have to just say, “All this is really going to cost me is some heavy lifting and a day” … and just go for it.

Monetarily, the results reflected my preparedness. I made some money but not a killing. 

The people-watching, however, was priceless.

A very handsome, engaging man (higher on the “attractive-to-Jz” scale than the new neighbor and more age-appropriate as well,) spent several lovely minutes beaming and telling me how happy I had made him by selling him my old wok. (If only it were always that easy to enchant men!)

A vivacious young woman in a vibrantly colored tube top jump suit (which she wore over an extremely pedestrian brassiere) hopped out of her car, marched straight to two of the larger items for sale and handed me the asking price with no haggling. (“These will be perfect for my work!”) Carrying the pieces triumphantly over her head (showing both an impressive amount of upper body strength and a significant increase of visible bra), she surfer-walked them to her car and then fought with her husky to “Move over and make room!” 

She made me smile - and feel very old at the same time…

One young boy was so enthralled with his new model car that he walked straight into the pedestal sink, forcing his mother to perform a leap of heroic distance to body-check the teetering porcelain before it toppled onto the lad’s brother.

A crotchety old lady bulldozed her way through my front hedges and complained about stubbing her toe on the big telephone pole anchor which is embedded beneath the hedges - the one that belongs to the utility company and which I cannot do anything about. (And by the way madam, why are you walking through my hedges in the first place?) She then bitched at me for not planting some grass seed to cover the large bare patches in lawn and turned, empty-handed, to barge her way back through the hedges - stubbing her toe a second time and turning back to yell, “See? This is a hazard!"

I called a polite, “Thank you for bringing it to my attention” while my sister-in-law, who is the most Christian of women, muttered, “Some people!” beneath her breath.

Not every encounter was that notable but they were all fun. Men hopping out of their trucks to ask if I have any marbles (“Nope, I’ve lost all of mine!”), women getting excited about potholders, that kind of thing. Mostly, we just met people and were reminded that we live in a community, not a bubble. We greeted and smiled, chatted and waved goodbye. 

Now it's time for the next step... the rented dumpster!