After the book sale we felt so adventurous we decided to hit some garage sales on the way home.
Now, I have a long love of garage sales, and, though Shannon has a less enjoyable history, I won her over back in Illinois to the ways of the treasure hunter.
However, we haven’t really had any luck since moving out here. There are constant garage sales going on all around us, but we have been so busy that we miss them. The ones near our house that we have ventured out to have been full of $30 coffee tables that look like someone soaked them them in water and used it as an ashtray or $7 baby clothes that come pre-soiled.
Garage sale people (come near the screen, please, I have some sage advice for you). If you were stupid enough to buy the $50 baby outfit, from Ralph or Tommy or whoever, that your baby crapped in once and then outgrew, that is your idiot move. If you put it in a garage sale, it should be 50 cents to a $1. (okay, you can back off now).
So, I saw a sign for an Estate sale on the way home and quickly turned off in the residential hell of Lake City. We drove by the place a few times. There were people standing out front, but the house looked like a double-wide from some slasher movie. You know, the one where the family has a kid who like to bite the necks off chickens and is ready to move up to teenagers.
Finally, we decided to move in. Estate sales freak me out from the get-go. You’re walking around someone’s house and there is stuff sitting and hanging everywhere. Price tags on everything. We walked through the front door and I really did feel like I was in the house of Trailer Face (slasher film pending). The place was dimly lit as we walked into the kitchen/dining room. There was piles of stuff stacked all around with just enough room to walk through. People were walking around picking through stuff with two fingers.
Nobody was buying anything. They were too amazed that anyone would think this stuff could be sold. Sitting among the $1 nick knacks was a gaudy tea set with a $600 price tag. I looked up at a shelf on the wall to see a ceramic cat with the body and breasts of a woman. She was standing in a slinky evening dress. I was tempted, but I decided my collection of big breasted cat people was already complete enough.
By the time I moved to the front-room, Shannon was more then ready to go. We got out of there quickly before any deformed kids to come up from the floor and pull us down.