Saturday, April 2, 2011

Reminiscence, Porn and Forced Heavy Drinking

Well.......it's not like a gal can have a week like last week every week. Today didn't suck, per se, but let's just say I'm not as high on yard sale crack as I was only seven short days ago. (Is there anything like methadone for that? Would be nice.) So, I woke with the chickens so I could be the first one at my 6:30 sale but I couldn't find the damn thing. This made me fifteen minutes early to a church sale that didn't start until 7. As I've said before, it is unwritten law that thou shall not let yard salers in early to a church sale or the members of the establishment will be forced into a life of limbo. Why that is the case, I have no idea but Moses himself could not part the oak doors of any place of worship. Amen. So, there I was with the weird-old-guy telling me about his gout and the down-on-her-luck younger lady who 'wish[ed] [she] had on [her] girdle because the wind [was] going right through her'. Only there was no wind. We were standing in the middle of the church's courtyard. Normally I would have wanted to bust down the doors with my restless legs going a mile a minute, back and forth, back and forth, but this time, luck had it that I looked up and really took notice of how beautiful this church was. I could write an entire blog entry on the beautiful brick dental moulding alone but for fear of losing you to a game of Bejeweled Blitz on facebook, I will

resist the urge. I will say, however, that it's a real shame in 2011, true artisans are held back from delighting us with their gifts just for the sheer prohibitive cost of their execution. Sure, some billionaire's pad in Aspen is probably quite lovely but this was a church built in 1889 (only 122 years ago) for common people to enjoy. There's no way that could be built today for us normal folk. Are we really that advanced if we're forced to live and worship in boring rectangular shells? It's not that I want to go back to washing my unmentionables on a washboard and shredding my knuckles to bits nor do I want to churn my own butter but there's just something about the beauty of the past that puts a smile on my face. What also put a smile on my face was beating those two freaks through the church doors when Betty and Edith FINALLY let us in! My grin was short lived, unfortunately, because all I got was a lousy metal bowl with a German theme that I'm pretty sure is newer but for 50 cents and desperation to get something, it's all I left with.




Next up was a total joke. The delusional woman had prices on her goods that were seriously higher than an antique store! Luckily on my way back to my van her friend pulled up with an old barrel that she sold me for $7. Still more than I like to spend but without my methadone, I needed my fix.




After that, I got a super cute vintage dress for a buck that looks super cute on the hanger but the elastic, empire waist will probably fit me like Raggedy Ann in a porno. One dollar is a small price to pay for an early morning belly laugh though!




At my next sale, I thought I was going to strike gold because it too was at a church and I've done very well here before but that was before. This time I got a wooden box....again, the yard sale version of a methadone boost.




The next three continued to help in my sobriety. Plastic. Shit. China. WTF????




My final attempt up at bat was a community sale where I got an old, large milk jug, a scrabble board, a jewelry box and my fav of the day......a brand new......still in the box.......'5 person family condo' tent!!!!! AND it comes with 2 chairs, 2 sleeping bags, a flashlight, a cooler and my favorite, four 'beverage' koozies because this tent was made for double fisting, ya'll!!!! I'm so excited! Just in time for camping on the beach, fires, s'mores,stars, confederate flags (It's Carolina Beach. What can I say?) Once agian, cheers to you, Yard Sale Gods! Oh, actually, what do you know! Cheers again!!

1 comment:

  1. I will pay top dollar for the barrel. Name the price, and I'll step over!

    ReplyDelete