Last weekend, I had my first yard sale.
Well . . . . . . CARPORT sale.
Instead of "EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN",
I had an "EVERYTHING UNDER THE CARPORT!" . . . . . . sale.
Furniture, jewelry, shoes, books (FREE books!), Halloween items, electronics,
knick knacks and . . . . . . JUNK!
All YOURS for the taking / buying / taking !
Since I was a carport sale "virgin",
I googled some tips on how to make it less . . . . . . . painful.
My three "takeaway tips" were:
1 ) Have plenty of small bills on hand,
2) Have a chair to sit in ( to help pass away the longer hours ),
and
3) Have plenty of patience.
So, I went to the bank (the day before) for small bills,
I pulled my blue beach chair out of storage
and, as for the patience . . . . . .
the patience . . . . . .
the patience . . . . . . .? ? ?
With the help of a few extra ( and reluctant ) hands,
I was up late, the night before, pulling everything out of the basement -
lifting, and cleaning, and pricing; inspecting (sweating and swearing).
As is my nature, I tried to talk myself out of it
That is, until the moment when I had so much "stuff" piled up on the main level of my house,
that I had to risk my life and perform a daring circus act in order to walk
from one side of the house to the other,
and I realized it would be less work to carry it all out onto the carport,
than it would to transport it all back downstairs.
Just for fun, however,
I did mention something when my (reluctant) helpers
carried up the very last item from the basement.
"I think I've changed my mind, " I said.
"Could you start carrying everything back down to the basement,
please ? ? ? ? ? ?"
The start time for the carport sale was 8 a.m.
I set my alarm for 6, and began carrying everything onto the carport.
Even before the sun had an opportunity to make an appearance, "expert" yard sale shoppers
began to slowly drive by my house, like hired hitmen observing the scene before the crime.
The serious ones showed up early, and worked alone,
asking for such items as records and c.d.'s, jewelry, electronics, or bikes.
They had no interest in anything else, and they were all business.
Next, came the "50 cent(ers)" -
shoppers who were only willing to pay 50 cents for an item on the "dollar table".
And, if an item was selling for two dollars?
Only one dollar and ( you guessed it ) . . . . . . 50 cents.
"Sorry, but I am staying away from change," I told them.
"Not interested," they would say, and walk away.
This is where my patience came in handy.
Then, gradually came in the "strollers" - just out on a beautiful ( muggy ) Saturday morning,
strolling through the yard sales to pass the time.
Entire families, couples, mothers and daughters and girlfriends . . . . . . Oh MY!
And kids, with their pockets full of allowance,
and their parent's permission to buy some JUNK.
One boy was thrilled to find a spice rack sitting on the "Free" table.
"My mom could use one of those!" he said, excited.
"Great!" I said, hoping his mom would be as thrilled as he was.
If not, HER trashcan probably isn't any worse than MINE.
The time went by fast and slow, at the same time.
People were rolling in and rolling out.
Oh, and, remember that "chair" that was recommended for me to have
( to sit in, while passing the time) ?
I was on my feet talking to people, making deals, and selling things ALL MORNING.
No TIME for "the chair" !
Things did begin to slow down ( a bit), around the 11:00 to 11:30 hour.
I even started to consider . . . . . . "the chair".
That's when one of the "50 Cent(ers)" made a second appearance.
"1.50," the woman offered for the last pair of shoes.
I was closing up shop at 12:00, and I wasn't stupid.
"Deal," I said.
My last shopper of the day showed up just after closing time,
as I was beginning to take inventory of what was left.
Coincidentally, he had come looking for "what was left ( for cheap )",
and I sold him the last of my 3 television sets for 5 dollars.
At the end of a very long, yet productive morning, I finally sat down in "the chair".
And, as I looked around,
I deemed my very first "Carport Sale" to be a success.
Later that day, my 12 year old son asked,
"Do you think you would do this again next year?"
In my mind, all I could think about was childbirth.
"Ask me in a few months, when my memory of the pain and exhaustion has faded," I told him.
The truth is, I probably would.
Don't tell my (reluctant) helpers that I said so.
Well . . . . . . CARPORT sale.
Instead of "EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN",
I had an "EVERYTHING UNDER THE CARPORT!" . . . . . . sale.
Furniture, jewelry, shoes, books (FREE books!), Halloween items, electronics,
knick knacks and . . . . . . JUNK!
All YOURS for the taking / buying / taking !
Since I was a carport sale "virgin",
I googled some tips on how to make it less . . . . . . . painful.
My three "takeaway tips" were:
1 ) Have plenty of small bills on hand,
2) Have a chair to sit in ( to help pass away the longer hours ),
and
3) Have plenty of patience.
So, I went to the bank (the day before) for small bills,
I pulled my blue beach chair out of storage
and, as for the patience . . . . . .
the patience . . . . . .
the patience . . . . . . .? ? ?
Only time would tell.
With the help of a few extra ( and reluctant ) hands,
I was up late, the night before, pulling everything out of the basement -
lifting, and cleaning, and pricing; inspecting (sweating and swearing).
As is my nature, I tried to talk myself out of it
e-v-e-r-y s-t-e-p o-f t-h-e w-a-y.
That is, until the moment when I had so much "stuff" piled up on the main level of my house,
that I had to risk my life and perform a daring circus act in order to walk
from one side of the house to the other,
and I realized it would be less work to carry it all out onto the carport,
than it would to transport it all back downstairs.
Just for fun, however,
I did mention something when my (reluctant) helpers
carried up the very last item from the basement.
"I think I've changed my mind, " I said.
"Could you start carrying everything back down to the basement,
please ? ? ? ? ? ?"
The start time for the carport sale was 8 a.m.
I set my alarm for 6, and began carrying everything onto the carport.
Even before the sun had an opportunity to make an appearance, "expert" yard sale shoppers
began to slowly drive by my house, like hired hitmen observing the scene before the crime.
The serious ones showed up early, and worked alone,
asking for such items as records and c.d.'s, jewelry, electronics, or bikes.
They had no interest in anything else, and they were all business.
Next, came the "50 cent(ers)" -
shoppers who were only willing to pay 50 cents for an item on the "dollar table".
And, if an item was selling for two dollars?
Only one dollar and ( you guessed it ) . . . . . . 50 cents.
"Sorry, but I am staying away from change," I told them.
"Not interested," they would say, and walk away.
This is where my patience came in handy.
"HAVE A NICE DAY!"
Then, gradually came in the "strollers" - just out on a beautiful ( muggy ) Saturday morning,
strolling through the yard sales to pass the time.
Entire families, couples, mothers and daughters and girlfriends . . . . . . Oh MY!
And kids, with their pockets full of allowance,
and their parent's permission to buy some JUNK.
One boy was thrilled to find a spice rack sitting on the "Free" table.
"My mom could use one of those!" he said, excited.
"Great!" I said, hoping his mom would be as thrilled as he was.
If not, HER trashcan probably isn't any worse than MINE.
The time went by fast and slow, at the same time.
People were rolling in and rolling out.
Oh, and, remember that "chair" that was recommended for me to have
( to sit in, while passing the time) ?
I was on my feet talking to people, making deals, and selling things ALL MORNING.
No TIME for "the chair" !
Things did begin to slow down ( a bit), around the 11:00 to 11:30 hour.
I even started to consider . . . . . . "the chair".
That's when one of the "50 Cent(ers)" made a second appearance.
"1.50," the woman offered for the last pair of shoes.
I was closing up shop at 12:00, and I wasn't stupid.
"Deal," I said.
My last shopper of the day showed up just after closing time,
as I was beginning to take inventory of what was left.
Coincidentally, he had come looking for "what was left ( for cheap )",
and I sold him the last of my 3 television sets for 5 dollars.
At the end of a very long, yet productive morning, I finally sat down in "the chair".
And, as I looked around,
I deemed my very first "Carport Sale" to be a success.
Later that day, my 12 year old son asked,
"Do you think you would do this again next year?"
In my mind, all I could think about was childbirth.
"Ask me in a few months, when my memory of the pain and exhaustion has faded," I told him.
The truth is, I probably would.
Don't tell my (reluctant) helpers that I said so.
No comments:
Post a Comment