11 September 2010

We went to a garage sale

Overland Park can sometimes have the best garage sales. Entire neighborhoods conspire to get each homeowner to dig out their most worthless crap, dust it off, slap a sticker on it and attempt to sell it to those who may not necessarily live within the same zip code. Some of these OP natives can have some pretty good crap, though.

People have everything for sale: TVs, clothes, boots, shoes, skates, Hot Wheels tracks, lamps, chairs, wire hangers, broken coffee makers, etc. There is never a lack of variety when a person decides to hit up a whole slew of sales during these neighborhood events. 

OPer's display such items in a way that makes them seem like they have some actual worth. But what the poor buyer sometimes fails to see is that some items have been strategically assembled in such a way that it will not fall apart until after you have arrived back home with it. And since many of them come from farther away, it's a move made by vendors knowing that buyers will not bother with attempting to return the item once they realize it really is crap. They live too far away and it would cost more in gas money to make the trip than to actually have any hope of getting their money back.

Moose and I decided to head out to a few. I thought that I'd just park my car on the street somewhere between several houses all displaying a vast array of stuff. Then we'd just take our time on this incredibly nice day and browse through old stretched out shirts, picture frames, water guns, and lamps that no longer have their shade.

I was not looking for anything in particular, but just wanted to have an excuse to be out and about and knew that Moose would love the activity and not lack for attention from other garage salers. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure he tried to finagle a lollipop from a little girl who was determined to buy that pink Barbie scooter for a whole dollar.

"Pssst, hey kid, lemme lick that lollipop real quick."

"No, it's mine. (lick lick)"

"Aw, come on...my Mother isn't looking, lemme just see it for a second."

"No, it's mine. (lick lick)"

"I'll give you one of my poop bags that's attached right there at the end of my leash. Please?"

"No, don't wanna poop bag. (lick lick)"

"I'll give you my monocle."

Meanwhile, I found a nice blouse circa 1973 that I am sure will come back into style in about never. But I was determined to talk down the vendor from her sale price of 75 cents. It is my duty, as an aspiring garage sale maniac, to talk them down to at least one-third of the asking price. That's right, I wanted that devastatingly wretched blouse for 25 cents.

"I got a quarter for that blouse. Can I have it?"

"No, this is a one of a kind piece of crap article of clothing."

"But it would look hideous with my new jeans. Can I have it? Got one quarter..."

"No, see this nice wine stain? That was a bottle of Dom...priceless at this point."

"But I'd really like to accent those pit stains with this crusty, cracked plastic belt I just got for a nickel down the street. Can I have it?"

"For 50 cents."

"I'll give you 30 cents and this lint from my pocket."


Just as I was paying in lint and small coins, I see Moose snatch the lollipop and we take off running. I drop my belt, get it tangled around my legs, and we go tumbling into the table piled up with doilies and snow globes. Moose face plants and gets the lollipop stuck on his ear.

As we get to our feet I spy a faded pleated skirt that would wreak havoc with my blouse and a pair of neon scrunchy socks. After much haggling and a couple of after dinner mints from my purse, I manage to snare those gems for a grand total of 55 cents and fresh breath.

What Moose and I have just demonstrated is the art of "beading" at a garage sale. This means that we have taken on a gypsy-like persona and outfoxed the vendors in selling their item for almost nothing. According to the website http://www.thundergroundfilms.com/zen/ysdictionary.html, we have managed to pull a Manhattan on those unsuspecting sellers of crap. HAHA!

Now that we're back at home, Moose is staring in the mirror at his lollipopped ear and keeps asking me if it's watermelon or cherry flavor. I'm parading around behind him admiring my new look for church on Sunday.

Watch out, Jesus, we are comin' to get ourselves exorcised of these gypsy ways!

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