March 31, 2007

SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 2007

There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up.

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891

Garage sale today.

Crack of dawn I schlep out to the intersection at the end of the street and shove a sign into the ground on the side of the road. Sign says: "Garage Sale" and the address beneath that. Started walking back toward the house and heard tires screech. Skinny, creepy looking dude jumps out of a Suzuki, runs over to the sign and, before I can even completely acknowledge what he's doing, rips the sign out of the ground, races back to the Suzuki and speeds off. I am gob-smacked. I hate Miami.

An hour later a small white car pulls over and a woman in the passenger seat yells, "Got any Grisham or Koontz books?" I nod yes. I say, "A few." A muffled squabble between passenger and driver follows and after a couple of minutes the car reverses suddenly and at a relatively high rate of speed and smacks into the oak tree in front of my house. The driver begins to shriek obscenities and then, after screaming at the passenger to "get out and take a look!!" speeds off with a 4 or 5 inch deep ding in her bumper.

Leather couch and love seat, in excellent condition, for sale for $200. Guy (aging stoner-type) comes and offers $20.
Me: "$200 is the least I'll take. They're in great condition."
Guy: "I don't really like the color, so why should I pay you $200? Maybe if they were a color I like, but not this color. So will you take the $20 or not?"
Me: "Um...gee...I'm gonna have to say...not just NO, but fuck NO."
Dude doesn't even flinch. Hands me a piece of paper with his phone number on it.
Guy: "Fine. But if you change your mind, this is my number. You'll have to deliver them, I don't have a truck."
Me: "Okay, sure, I'll deliver them. For $200 more."

Overheard: "They've only got a couple pieces of furniture to sell. This is ridiculous. Don't they know you can't have a yard sale if you only have one or two pieces of furniture?" Silly me.

My 5-year-old quietly slips outside every hour or so and inspects the items. Takes back the plastic school bus, the Dora back-pack, a set of ice tongs, a tiny shovel, a paperweight with a scorpion in it. At one point I ask her what she's doing. I am told that I never asked her permission to sell these things and she's putting them back in the house. I'm given a nasty scowl.

Ana (my pal who was kind enough to help me out today) leaves around 2pm. I drag the last few items back into the garage. I'm gonna do this once, maybe twice, more. Still have to sell the couches, armoire, kitchen table, TVs, lawn mower, ceramic pots, etc. Then, that's it, whatever's left goes to Goodwill or the dump.

I look at it this way though: today was just a preview of the kind of parade of nutters that I'll probably get during tomorrow's open house. Most likely, I'll get several versions of 'couch guy'. But, if I'm really lucky, maybe, like today, someone will buy something.