The Inanity of the American Garage Sale Shopper

So I am sitting in the lawn chair awaiting the mass crowd to appear for the garage sale. After about 30 minutes of being “open” with not a soul in site John was about to call it a failed bit. Then…she appeared. She had bleach blonde big Texas hair and spoke with a dialect that is predominate to Johnson County but has been heard as far south as Stephenville. She exclaimed that her brother just bought a 3,000 sq ft house and didn’t have anything to put in it (Have you seen Garden State?) She immediately got on the phone with her brother and told him to get here PDQ. She asked me to hold several pieces for her, I told her I would. She took a seat on the couch, keeping her eyes peeled for her brother. When he pulled up he walked over to me and handed me the cash, I asked him if he wanted to know what he was buying. Looking whipped and broken he said “No ma’am it’s a small price to pay to shut her up.”

30 minutes later a guy in his late 20’s stopped and crawled out the window of his primer grey car. He walked up to John after carefully examining my cock collection and asked in a stereotypical stoner voice “You got any albums for sale?” John replied “What are you looking for?” “80’s rock dude.” John made a quick call to Glenn who said there was no way he was letting go of his Vanilla Ice album. So, we turned Wayne Campbell away.

By this point the crowd was picking up. I was mulling around the garage while John’s mom was keeping careful watch over the goods. After all, there are people who will try to distract you while they steal your used Tupperware. The block was getting bogged down by on looker delays and the neighbors were coming over to see if we were devil worshipers.

Peggy (John’s mom) knows EVERYONE in this town, and they know her. If you don’t know her you want to. She is the type of person who attracts people. She is very approachable with an all around inviting nature. This is sometimes is to her disadvantage as it was on this day. I noticed a woman talking with her but it wasn’t until I moved closer that I heard the one sided conversation. This woman was telling Peggy about removing hair on various parts of her body. There was talk of contraptions and men. There was no way I was going to get sucked into that topic, me being a Yeti and all.

The crowd finally broke and I took my respected seat by the donut box when “he” pulled up in his 1969 RS/SS Camero with 5 Speed Tremec Transmission, Custom engraved chrome valve covers and Budnick Fontana wheels with 255/45/17 Firestone Fire Hawk Tires. As he walked up the driveway I could feel the spirit of Dale Earnhardt fall over us like the Holy Ghost at a Pentecostal revival. He had on a black and red Chevy hat. I asked him “Are you a Jr fan or are you just a Chevy fan? “Just a Chevy fan” he said with a smile. I called him a liar and told him I had a Dale Jr comforter inside that I was thinking about selling. He asked me how much and when I said 3 dollars he said he SOLD! I know my people.

P.S. I did sell my Uncle Remus Molassas sign that John forbid me to bring into the house. It proudly read “Dis Sho Am Good” The man in the white sheet who bought it thought it was cool. I know my town.

It was a good day.

(To read John’s ridiculously long, but very funny, entry regarding the garage sale, just click this link. . Or else.)

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