Yard Sale=Nutjobs
September 17th, 2004
We has some pretty amazing yard sale shoppers:
The crazy lady who found what she wanted and just stood by the scarf (or “wall hanging”, as she put it) and then screeched, “WHO IS IN CHARGE? IN CHARGE! WHO??” until I went over to talk to her.
The professional belly dancer who bought a storage unit. She was really cool, actually. I took her business card and I’m hoping to get to see her dance at a Turkish restaurant in my old neighborhood.
The enigmatic yet smelly bearded man.
The people who will haggle you down from 50 cents to a quarter, then pay with a hundred dollar bill.
The groovy teacher lady who bought a rug and an array of throw pillows to decorate her classroom. She was cool.
The other teacher…she started out cool and then turned into a bit of a needy nutjob. In my three minute interaction with her I learned A) She teaches 8th grade, B) she is divorced from a manic depressive drug addict who took all her money, C) she has a blood clot in her arm from taking birth control pills, and D) she used to date Jeremy Piven. Did I ask for any of this information? No.
All in all, a good day. After we put the leftover merchandise by the curb for the scavengers, Arlo and I went out to drink wine and eat ourselves into a carbohydrate coma. Good stuff.
Hey! It’s almost Halloween. At least that’s what they are telling me in the bread aisle.
