So, every year our townhouse community holds a weekend garage sale, wherein we all try and foist our crap onto our unsuspecting neighbours.
This year, the weather was...less than conducive to puttering about people's carports. It was misting passive aggressively and we were forced to sit outside on awkward folding chairs, desperately clutching warm drinks.
It was like camping, but without the nice campfire.
Garage sales are an interesting glimpse into the human psyche.
People will come in, cast their eyes over your paltry offerings and suddenly swoop down and grab something random, like a George Forman Grill and screech "WHAT'S THE LOWEST YOU'LL TAKE FOR THIS". And their eyes turn all wild, like they're fundamentally torn between needing this precious treasure and not paying more than $1.50 for it.
And the bargaining. OH THE BARGAINING.
I mean, I love bargaining as much as the next person, but when the item's already free...there's not much more I can do. Except throw in more crap. Which I gladly did.
I'm happy to say that, despite the gloomy weather, we got rid of a hefty pile of stuff and made a decent profit.
I have to say, that's it takes a lot of self-restraint to not push the hard sell on people wandering by.
I really had to work at not yelling things like "HEY! YOU IN THE HAT! YOU LOOK LIKE A GUY WHO NEEDS A CROCKPOT!"
Surprisingly, this did not help me sell the crockpot. Which is still looming at me, just sitting there smugly on its squat little legs.
Yes, I did just anthropomorphize a cooking appliance.
I blame the madness that comes from sitting in a carport for two full days.
Does anyone want a crockpot?