There were two things I picked up at this week’s sales:
1) An audio book that was, conveniently, the next book in a series I’d been listening to during long car rides (I’d say which series, but it’d make me look even more like a middle-aged woman than starting a yardsale blog already has), and
2) A decreased sense of self-worth.
More on that in the paragraphs to come. First, here are some nice creeper shots of the stuff I couldn’t bring myself to purchase. For example:
A spoon fashioned to look like the skyline of Pittsburgh, PA! Hey, why not? I’d probably have bought it if I had any knowledge of Pittsburgh other than that I’m supposed to hate their sports teams, since I’m originally from the Philadelphia area. GO WHATEVER OUR BASKETBALL TEAM IS!!
True story: I found this spoon at the same yardsale that I practically stole a PS3 controller from a couple of weeks ago. While browsing this week’s goods—just to be on the safe side—I took the time to plot out exactly how I should try to disguise my voice in case I had to ask for a price, to make sure no one would recognize me.
Later that morning, I came across:
A pile of human hair. That’s right. I didn’t buy it, in case you’re wondering.
Now, it was at this yardsale that one of the sellers decided to share something with me. This is an exact quote from a person who wanted me to give them money:
“We’re also selling a truck and a grand piano…but I’m pretty sure those are a little out of your price range, heh.”
…Excuse me? I don’t know if she was trying to insult me or what, but I can’t think of any way I was supposed to take that other than “lol, you’re poor, maybe you should just buy my hair instead.” Also, because I guess someone slapped a “kick me” sign on my back earlier in the day, when I was observing a Dance Dance Revolution mat at a later yardsale, the owner piped in with “yeah, I bet you play a lot of DDR, don’t you.” Which doesn’t sound so bad typed out, but the implication in his tone was that, should I attempt to dance around on his mat, my massive girth would in all likelihood shatter it.
Look, I know Christian didn’t include “don’t insult the customers” as one of his tenets of a good yardsale, but I don’t think that’s the sort of thing you should have to explain, you know?
I couldn’t stay grouchy for long, though. Not after I saw this touching message at one of the day’s last sales, inscribed in a 1970s-era publication of The Dragonriders of Pern. (Sorry the top part got cut off; I’m still working out how to use my cell phone’s camera.)
TRANSCRIPTION (edited for grammar, because that’s my thing):
…joy in these books as I have enjoyed the journey too. There is in each of us a Dragon Rider just waiting for his or her chance to fly. You’ve always been my brother, but now you are my friend as well. And that is something more valuable than blood, as you yourself have said. “You can pick your friends to your own liking, but you can’t pick your blood.” I’m glad I got lucky on both accounts.
Awwww. And it would’ve been even more touching if Dave’s brother had, say, hung onto the book forever and ever, instead of hawking it for $2 at his family’s yardsale. Oops.
One last thing before I leave you: Next weekend will most likely mark the end of the 2011 yardsale season, at least for me. The following Saturday is my wife’s birthday, and I don’t think she’ll want to spend it yardsaling, particularly if the vendors are as weirdly mean-spirited as they were this week. Then in November, I’ll be spending three out of four weekends away from home, and the remaining weekend dribbling blood out of my mouth following some oral surgery.
If anyone’s interested in chipping in some guest content in the meantime, just drop me a line! Otherwise…
Enjoy the yardsales while you still can.
Total spent: $2