You never know what you need until you find it:
One person’s trash is another’s treasure. Years ago, I had garage sales to get rid of my kids’ outgrown clothes, toys and sports equipment, and filled notebook pages with character sketches of the shoppers and their stories. What is it about bargain hunting that brings out the most chatty people?
I haven’t held a garage sale in probably 20 years, but my neighbor was moving. She had a lot of big items to sell. I had lots of little stuff that I would rather have someone take for a buck than toss it into a landfill, so I volunteered to help her. We sold nearly everything, even though we weren’t what I’d call busy. We did get many interesting shoppers, however.
Being neighborly
An 84-year-old woman, about 5‘ tall, probably all of 95 pounds, told me she walked 10,000 steps every day. She wore capris, tennis shoes, and a Land’s End quilted, long-sleeve sweatshirt (in an 89 degree afternoon). She said she was always cold when my neighbor complimented her on her top. Her son recently moved in with her. She whispered loudly with her hand at the side of her mouth, “He just got divorced. Fifty years old.” She giggled as if about to say something naughty: “I wish he’d move out already.” She said she’s tired of him, swatted her hand down and added “I’m mad at him anyway because I love my daughter-in-law.” She bought a leather backpack, a purse, and lots of little things for her grandchildren that clearly made her happy. Her daughter put a pile of things aside on a table for herself. The 84-year-old took a box from that pile and brought it to me to purchase. Her daughter turned around and said “Ma! That’s my stuff!” The elderly woman tiptoed over to put it back, eyes wide, fingers at her lips. “Oops.”
A man with bushy white eyebrows who lives down the street came looking for license plates to cut up and make into artwork and signs. He stood close to me and spoke softly about how the neighborhood has changed, how builders are tearing down little houses to build big ones. He’s lived in his ranch for many, many years; said he paid $54,000 for it. The average price now is $390,000 and many of those houses, even at that price, are tear-downs.
The woman who grew up in the house behind my neighbor bought a basket. She wanted me to come outside the garage to look as she pointed at it.
A teenage girl with black lipstick, piercings in her lip and nose and ears, dressed in shorts, a t-shirt and red high top converse tennis shoes, bought two contrasting items from me: a porcelain Bradley baby doll, and a framed and matted picture of Cher’s torso in a pseudo-bondage corset. The girl smiled when I told her I had designed the framing and matting myself, with leather, real fishnet hose and silver metal studs, for a competition in a frame shop where I once worked.
The neighbor girl, age 7, literally danced her way over to ask if we wanted to buy lemonade from her lemonade stand. I asked if she delivered. She nodded and enthusiastically shouted, “Yes!!” She carefully walked over two half-cups of warm lemonade. One dollar each. Her mom then stopped by to thank us, adding that we didn’t have to drink it, saying it was mostly sugar water.
A surprising connection
A woman whose toddler grandson was killed in the recent tornado in Michigan when a tree fell on their house bought a few things. I told her about my late son. We hugged and cried together at how fragile life is.
A man who picked through all my old record albums told me about his recent open-heart surgery and stents. In the middle of taking a stress test, his doctor said “you are 90% blocked! You need surgery now!” They admitted him right away.
A woman shopper with wildly curly hair overheard him; it turned out she’d had a heart event, too, and had self-published a book about recovery that focuses on the emotional & human perspective. She ran to her car to get a copy for him and signed it. When I told her I was a writer, she got a copy for me as well.
The man hung around to talk for about 45 minutes. He talked about his historic house, his wife, and that his two dogs don’t get along with his recently adopted rescue. He knew tons of music trivia, and shared it all with us. He had seen Jethro Tull and Three Dog Night live, as did I. He laughed loudly at his own jokes. Did a lot of pantomiming of dogs, doctors, exercising, his wife… everything. Getting a free book on heart health made him happy. “How often do you get to meet an author!?!” he asked. I smiled; I didn’t tell him I was one. We found his chatter exhausting.
The last customer was the best
A long-haired guy, about 45, spent considerable time picking put an odd combination of things: a couple of 5 x 7 picture frames, a humidifier, a three-shelf glass TV stand, carpet protectors, 10 records, a Coors beer glass set, a plastic TV tray for convalescing, lawn ornaments… He examined every single thing, asking questions and carefully considering our answers. When I spoke to him, he would put his hand to his ear and say, “What? I don’t hear good.” He wore a baseball cap, navy blue pants and matching shirt, and some kind of waterproof hiking shoes that made my feet feel sweaty. He didn’t have cash, so we set his things aside while he drove to an ATM. He said it’d be a while because he wanted to go to his own bank to avoid a charge. Just as we were closing up, he returned. He shook my hand, nearly crushing my fingers, apparently pleased with his haul.
In all, a fun two days. And we emptied the house of stuff that might otherwise have gone to a landfill, and got some pocket money and stories in return.
Thank you for visiting.
Linda K. Sienkiewicz is a writer, poet, and artist:
Multi-finalist award winning novel In the Context of Love
Picture book Gordy and the Ghost Crab
Latest poetry chapbook: Sleepwalker
Buy Signed Books: In the Context of Love | Gordy and the Ghost Crab | Sleepwalker
Connect with Linda on social media: LinkTree
