Garage sales as sport

My day began at 4:45 a.m. That's when I woke up, pried my eyes open, and made the decision to have a true garage sale (i.e., all items actually in the garage in case of rain or frozen temperatures). I put all the stuff I could fit on the tables, shoved the rest of it in big boxes, and put out the signs around 6 a.m. My street was cold and quiet. It was dark outside, with no traffic. I began to worry that it was too cold/middle of the month/soon after the holidays to have a garage sale.

Turns out that I have the only garage sale in the metroplex for the day. I thought perhaps that was a very bad thing. Guess I was wrong.

I don't profess to enjoy garage sales, either as a shopper or retailer, so I'm not familiar with the culture that evidently lives within the sport of bargain hunting. My sale was supposed to start at 7 a.m., but when I opened the garage door at 6:30, there were three cars waiting. All of them evidently knew each other, allegedly from their garage sale brawls.

They descended like flies on a sandwich, a couple of them working tandem to scope out the good bargains. They were seasoned professionals, questioning if things were collectibles, how old they were, etc. But what they didn't realize is that I have eBay access too, and I knew nothing out there would sell for more than $3 at auction. Amateurs.

And when one of them began to remove things from the pile that another professional garage saler had made, that's when things got ugly. The "Marge, you know darn good and well that was my pile" exclamation followed by the "Why, Shirley, I'm sick of your cheating and coming early to get the good stuff" excuse.

So I guess that frequenting garage sales isn't so much about finding a treasure for oneself as it is about winning. Or about the rush of thinking the seller has no idea what something's worth. I can just see these ladies getting ready for Saturdays, power walking to prepare their legs for quick shopping, pouring over the classifieds for good sales, going to the bank for singles to put in their fanny packs.... that's so not the life for me. I prefer to make a few bucks while peddling my junk after cleaning out my closet. I like storing fewer boxes in my garage. I want only to purge my existence of a decade of my pack rat ways.

It's been two hours and I've made 236 bucks. And I'm friggin' freezing.

I think the hardcore shoppers are done, and I may be closing up early. Someone at Goodwill's going to get some nice Casual Corner clothes. And my movers should be thrilled.

One of the ladies going through the clothes exclaimed, "I don't know who bought this stuff, but they have great taste!" I gave her a good deal.

And I was only slightly alarmed by the skinny dude who bought all my heels AFTER trying them on. Ewww. But he had cash... dollar bills, for some reason.