So last weekend we had our dreaded garage sale. We didn't really advertise, aside from a few signs in our neighborhood. We also accidentally scheduled it for Easter weekend, which wasn't such a bright idea either. And wouldn't you know it, after expecting nearly no one to show up, we actually had a pretty decent turnout.
My family has hosted garage sales before, so I kind of knew what to expect as far as clientele goes. Luckily I was not disappointed.
One of my favorites was an elderly man in overalls, who after wandering around for a long time came up to us to ask if we had any artillery loaders. I was trying not to laugh because it just seemed like such a random question. Didn't he see the collection of cat figurines? The huge pile of toys? The tables and tables and tables of housewares, childhood collectables, stuff from my college days and Christmas ornaments? What on earth would make him assume after seeing all of those types of things, that we would also be into historic artillery loading supplies? The old man stayed for a really long time, chatting to us about how he writes news articles for artillery magazines and how he has a booth at flea markets where he sells artillery loaders. Then he went on to tell us his entire genealogy and all about what they did in the Civil War and what types of guns they had and so on.
The artillery man bought a huge box of old used votive candles that we had at our wedding reception and said he was going to give each one away to people that he knew. He told us a story about how he purchased a box of about a hundred paring knives at some flea market. He took them to church and told all of the ladies to meet him in the parking lot after the service. He then gave each one a knife. I'm pretty sure this is the fate of our votive candles, and it is so incredibly sweet and funny at the same time.
There was another little old man that cracked us up too. He arrived with a woman who I think was a much younger sister or some sort of caretaker. He was tiny and feeble and fragile, walking at about turtle speed with the help of a cane. I believe he was toothless, but was gumming the end of an unlit cigar. After seeing our assortment of Christmas ornaments, he started to tell us a story about how when he was a young man, he tried to get a job lifting boxes or paper reams or something for the Hallmark factory. They told him he was too small to handle the work and sent him away, which really bothered him because he grew up on a farm and was quite accustomed to lifting hundred-pound haybales over his head. He continued to go back to Hallmark over and over, inquiring about a job. They turned him away because of his size time and time again, so he went to some sort of steel factory and got a job there. And then proceeded to called Hallmark and told them to take their job and shove it, or something along those lines. I couldn't even look at Nick as the old man was telling us this story, because I knew I would lose it and crack right up.
One of my favorite parts of the whole day was when a mother and her two little kids showed up. The kids were probably around five to seven years old. They discovered Nick's old remote-controlled fart machine that was for sale and were so infatuated with it. Every time it went off they just laughed and laughed, causing us to also laugh uncontrollably. The little boy was purchasing Superman, so they put the fart machine underneath good old Superman and let 'er rip. The poor mother had to break down and buy the fart machine because these kids just couldn't get enough. And I know they were going grocery shopping after leaving our garage sale, so I like to think that they brought the fart machine inside with them and continued to use it on passing customers.
It turned out that we had a pretty good time at our garage sale, when we were expecting it to be quite torturous. This is a really good thing, considering once we get an offer on our house the second time around, we have to schedule another sale for the stuff still inside our house, plus all the leftovers that didn't sell this last time. Stay tuned for more stories, because I'm sure we'll meet some more interesting people.
My family has hosted garage sales before, so I kind of knew what to expect as far as clientele goes. Luckily I was not disappointed.
One of my favorites was an elderly man in overalls, who after wandering around for a long time came up to us to ask if we had any artillery loaders. I was trying not to laugh because it just seemed like such a random question. Didn't he see the collection of cat figurines? The huge pile of toys? The tables and tables and tables of housewares, childhood collectables, stuff from my college days and Christmas ornaments? What on earth would make him assume after seeing all of those types of things, that we would also be into historic artillery loading supplies? The old man stayed for a really long time, chatting to us about how he writes news articles for artillery magazines and how he has a booth at flea markets where he sells artillery loaders. Then he went on to tell us his entire genealogy and all about what they did in the Civil War and what types of guns they had and so on.
The artillery man bought a huge box of old used votive candles that we had at our wedding reception and said he was going to give each one away to people that he knew. He told us a story about how he purchased a box of about a hundred paring knives at some flea market. He took them to church and told all of the ladies to meet him in the parking lot after the service. He then gave each one a knife. I'm pretty sure this is the fate of our votive candles, and it is so incredibly sweet and funny at the same time.
There was another little old man that cracked us up too. He arrived with a woman who I think was a much younger sister or some sort of caretaker. He was tiny and feeble and fragile, walking at about turtle speed with the help of a cane. I believe he was toothless, but was gumming the end of an unlit cigar. After seeing our assortment of Christmas ornaments, he started to tell us a story about how when he was a young man, he tried to get a job lifting boxes or paper reams or something for the Hallmark factory. They told him he was too small to handle the work and sent him away, which really bothered him because he grew up on a farm and was quite accustomed to lifting hundred-pound haybales over his head. He continued to go back to Hallmark over and over, inquiring about a job. They turned him away because of his size time and time again, so he went to some sort of steel factory and got a job there. And then proceeded to called Hallmark and told them to take their job and shove it, or something along those lines. I couldn't even look at Nick as the old man was telling us this story, because I knew I would lose it and crack right up.
One of my favorite parts of the whole day was when a mother and her two little kids showed up. The kids were probably around five to seven years old. They discovered Nick's old remote-controlled fart machine that was for sale and were so infatuated with it. Every time it went off they just laughed and laughed, causing us to also laugh uncontrollably. The little boy was purchasing Superman, so they put the fart machine underneath good old Superman and let 'er rip. The poor mother had to break down and buy the fart machine because these kids just couldn't get enough. And I know they were going grocery shopping after leaving our garage sale, so I like to think that they brought the fart machine inside with them and continued to use it on passing customers.
It turned out that we had a pretty good time at our garage sale, when we were expecting it to be quite torturous. This is a really good thing, considering once we get an offer on our house the second time around, we have to schedule another sale for the stuff still inside our house, plus all the leftovers that didn't sell this last time. Stay tuned for more stories, because I'm sure we'll meet some more interesting people.
7 Comments:
haha, i love that the old man gave the women all knives. i think that might have creeped me out a bit, haha. but still sincere and cute.
Dude, I would totally buy that Snoopy earring holder if I came to your yardsale. That thing is awesome!
wow, who sells a box of knives?!
I love garage sales! I would have another if I hadn't gotten rid of so much stuff at one last summer...
Garage sales bring out the craziest, funniest people! Especially crazy old men. I cannot get enough of crazy old men.
I love garage sales -- both having them, and going to them!
I am so sheltered. I have never been to or held a garage sale!
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