When the alarm woke me Saturday at 6 a.m., the birds were singing. Half an hour later my book club friends, Penny and Libby, and I were lugging out boxes to my front yard brimming with all the gently used crap that we had decided to offer the public at a bargain.
“Who is that?!” Penny clutched my arm, nodding to Mason, the 20-year-old stud-muffin jogging by.
Mason is a Greek god with a cherry on top. He had come home from college for the weekend with two friends. When I waved, Mason and company stopped, and within seconds they offered to haul out our wares. Penny and Libby ogled supervised, and I disappeared inside to make bloody Marys.
When Libby suggested a yard sale a few weeks earlier, I thought it would be a great way to clean out Maison Bean and put a little money in the Bean Christmas coffers, so I took charge. There were the two ads on Craigs List, the ad in the paper that appeared in print and online, and I’d put signs on every street corner. The weather forecast called for a beautiful day and, not only did I have my stuff, I had Mimi’s stuff and a truckload of stuff that Joe had delivered the day before. Joe is a compulsive shopper, and he had some good loot. There was a sack of jeans that had never been worn, two hydration systems with tags, silk ties, designer sports coats, linens, sconces, and one of those big-daddy surge protectors still in the box, and being the good friend that he is, Joe had even priced everything.
Before I could bring out the bloody Marys, a woman with a pickup truck and an industrial Maglite had become the first customer. And after that, they kept coming. They were like ants at a picnic. I could barely drink my bloody Mary, let alone keep up with all of the cash I was taking in.
Jules, the babysitter, slipped in at 7 a.m. to watch Moose, and Mimi came to pick Jax up for soccer. I was so busy I didn’t even acknowledge them.
By the morning’s end, I had $1200 in my pocket, a half a box of leftovers to give to charity, and a big smile on my face. I asked Jules to stay on, and Penny and Libby and I headed downtown for massages and pedicures…. It was the perfect yard sale.
At least that’s what we told the other girls in book club.
In reality, the neighborhood grocery store was out of Zing Zang, which meant no bloody Marys.
Joe had just had back surgery, so Friday after work I made two trips to his house and loaded up the Honda. There are 15 steps to Joe’s front door, and some of the stuff was on the second floor. After I hauled it all home, I stayed up until 1 a.m. pricing it.
Even the birds were still asleep when the alarm went off. And Mason—unfortunately Mason is a figment of my imagination, which means that I had to set up all of Joe’s, Mimi’s and my stuff solo. And every time someone went inside to use the bathroom or to get something, Moose came to the front door and had a fit, so that half the time I was chasing him around the front yard. Despite all of my advertising and the beautiful day, we probably had 15 customers, none of whom had pickup trucks and Maglites. One looked like he was living out of his rattletrap car, and Libby and Penny thought he wanted to ask me for a date. I ignored them.
I made $60 in sales. I paid Jules $35 for watching Moose. My shoulders hurt, my back hurts and I have chin splints and a trailer full of shit that I have to give away, and I will never have a yard sale again.
{ 5 comments }
I almost stopped reading and called to ask HOW IN THE HECK did you make $1200? My last yard sale three years ago was the hardest $100 I ever earned. I now call the Kidney Foundation (and they pick up.)
I feel your pain!! I attempted to have a yard sale two weeks ago. The Weather Channel said it was going to shower, so all hopes went out the window. I had put in an ad in the local paper, but didn’t bother with signs because they don’t stay up when it rains. Nothing got priced. It’s all still sitting in boxes.
You know what? It didn’t rain.
But it was VERY windy and cold.
Several people had slowed down to see if there was anything going on and just drove away. One lady stopped as I was outside tending to something in my garden to keep it from blowing away. She asked if this was the place that was having the garage sale. I said yes, she said you canceled it? Um, yeah. Meanwhile, 35 mph winds are basically blowing away our words. I told her it was too cold and windy. YA THINK? Next spring.
Be glad for the 35 mph winds! It’s like being rode hard and put up wet. I’m still recovering!
HEATHER! You know I’m not that lucky! I wish I’d talked to you before all that work.
Loved your photos of Ann’s boys!
You had me going there!
I participated in a subdivision garage sale many years ago. My neighbor said she’d help me if we set up in my garage. She hauled all this stuff over and priced it like she was Baby Gap.
I put my stuff out with prices like 25 cents-$2.00. Isn’t the point to get rid of it???
She went to do a “few” errands. 4 hours later she returned only to get furious with me for selling a baby formula stained snowsuit for $2 instead of the $10 she had marked it.
She barely spoke to me after that. We moved. I never did another garage sale.
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