Suburban Addictions: Tale of a Garage Sale Junkie

6 Jun

I’m admitting to it right now. I’m an addicted to garage sales. I don’t think I qualify for “Strange Addictions“. Maybe “Hoarders” if I ever allow myself to accumulate things.

I used to think that my garage sale addiction was all about being frugal. Until I learned something. Something that threatens to take away even this meager part of my fragile identity.

Today I learned that I’m really tired of it all. I’m only doing it now because I promised my cousin that I’d get her boys some clothes. That’s it. I don’t enjoy it any more. It’s just the same old routine basically. Rich bitches staring me down because I don’t look like the type who’d pay near retail for their adorable love muffin’s lightly used sweat pants (and by lightly used, I mean knees nearly worn through and the elastic shot to hell.) And they’re right. I’m not that type of person. I’m not interested in your overpriced outfits, even if they are Gymboree and GAP…sorry, I can get the same thing at a consignment store for a hell of a lot less and be able to return it to boot.

I think that if you want to sell your stuff that bad, you should at least care if it is clean. I can’t tell you how many garage sales I’ve been to in the past few years where people are selling stuff that is just straight up dirty. Covered in pet hair or mystery residue, smelling like Grandma’s attic or covered in old stains. Let it go people. Just throw it out in an unmarked bag. Or better yet, cut it up and use the pieces for dust rags. If you’re sentimental, learn to sew and make a quilt out of your precious love muffin’s favorite pjs and t shirts and their first everything.

The worst is the socialite garage sale. Some rich 30 something garage sale proprietor with a couple of annoying ass bratty kids running around said sale, while she’s talking, texting or playing Words With Friends on her effing iPhone. In the meantime, a collection of all of her peeps are milling around staring at her collection o’ crap. They “ooh” and “ahhh” and act like they’ve never seen a Bjorn, Pack N Play, 3in1 stroller-thing or whatever the hell her big ticket item is. They hem and haw over how cute Mason or Madison or Jackson or Addison or whatever their bratty kid or terrible tot’s name is, not paying a bit of attention to anything else that’s going on. Oh by the way, Mason/Madison/whatever their name is just poured their Cherry Coke all over the ground and is now screaming because Avery/Dylan/Jayden just stole their chair/hit them/called them a doo-doohead.

I can’t leave those social affairs soon enough. I like it when business is brisk, polite and the conversations limited to price haggling, weather, and the locations of other good sales in their area. Bonus points if their kids are industriously selling lemonade (the homemade kind) and brownies/cookies that they made themselves from a stand on the sidewalk. You lose points if your kids are selling cookies from the local bakery wrapped in cheap paper towels. And double point loss if they are selling instant lemonade. I can make Betty Crocker at home kids, and no thank you to Country Time too.

Perhaps I’m just bitter from being fooled by Craigslist ads. People advertising “TWINS SALE!!! TONS TONS TONS of boys clothes, ALL SIZES!!!!!!” and then I get there and it’s two piddly racks of mostly natty sleepers and toddler sized dress clothes. Oh and 6 racks of pristine girls’ clothing with matching shoes and every Dora and Disney Princess thing you could ever want. Did I forget to mention that I have two sets of twins and only one son? Oops, my bad. Yeah, I guess you did because if you had mentioned that when I freakin’ emailed you, I probably wouldn’t have wasted my time at your sorry ass sale this morning. And the same treatment goes to the other Craigslist ad where the lady said she had 2 years worth of boys clothes for sale, PRICED TO SELL!. My ass. I get there and sure enough she had boys clothes…but nothing like she claimed. Everything she had screamed “THIS SHIT IS GOING TO THE SALVATION ARMY IF IT DOESN’T SELL TODAY!”

If there were a place to anonymously review garage sales, I would give her two stars and leave a pissy review. The only thing she had going for her was organization and that was a stretch since she had some vintage Barbies still in boxes splayed haphazardly across her front lawn along with a bunch of used sports equipment. At least the clothes were hanging up. But then I smelled puke while going through a box of bibs…so make what you will of it all.

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