Garage Sale Musings
I participated in a garage sale with some friends over the weekend. It's the first one I've ever done, outside of our family garage sales when I was a kid. We all bring our junk to one house, then watch the garage sale madness throughout the day. I found myself this year going through a wide range of emotions as a result of this garage sale. It's just a garage sale, you might say. How emotional could that be? And you'd be right to point out the obvious. Still, during the event I found much humor, some sadness, and then anger.

Humor, because garage sale patrons are just extremely amusing to watch. They come with the intent to get as much of your crap for as little money as possible. They arrive before it's even light outside, looking for great early bird deals on the stuff you don't want anymore. They swarm in droves, pouring out of cars and vans with a mission to drive away with a fabulous treasure, for which they paid as little as possible. You watch as people examine stuff that's been the butt of many a joke in your own household, and it's just flat out funny when someone else takes home the candle holder, or strange glowing orb toy, or ugly shirt you've made fun of all day. Everything is already priced at ridiculously low prices, yet these shoppers are determined to negotiate down to even less. They look at the price stickers in disbelief, yet they have to have whatever it is. Do they really have a need for an antique plate that matches nothing they own? No. But it is certainly over-priced at $13.00, and they'll make sure you know that before they buy it for $8.00.

Sadness, because I have to part with sentimental items that leave with people I don't know. I will never see these items again. Not that I ever use these items anymore, or that they mean a lot to me, necessarily. But it had meaning at some point, even if it was useless or unwanted from the beginning. There's always a story that goes with it. It's likely someone gave this stuff to me for some reason or occassion. Or it was handed down as 'apartment furniture' from my parents' home to mine, when I first started living on my own. It's family stuff that's been around for years, and reminds me of happier times and family times. Memories wrapped up in the comfort of seeing something that's simply been around for a good part of my life, even though it long since stopped being something I need or use. It's tough making a decision to let some things go, and I feel silly about being so attached to certain things. I didn't even know I was so attached until I pulled it out of a closet, placed a price sticker on it, and realized it would be gone in the morning. That annoying, ugly, trick gold lamp that comes apart in the middle when you pick it up has been the scourge of my family for years. We complained and joked about it every time we'd move it. My parents bestowed it upon me to get it out of their house. But seeing someone else cart it off was like letting another small chunk of a life I once had ride off with strangers who don't know the lamp or it's place in my history. I hope it goes to a good home.

Anger, because I suck at garage sale. How hard is it to sell cheap junk to people who are specifically looking for cheap junk? Apparently, it's harder for me than it should be, and I'm just not good at it. Pricing all of my items and assuming that everything will sell, I anticipate an amount that would be a good profit for the day, figuring in a generous bargaining loss. I had three tables to sell, as well as a couple other good items. It was quality junk that I thought for sure would do well mixed in with all the other junk and clothes.

So, how much did I make? $28.00. WAY off my mark.

I'm still not quite sure how that happened. How did I end up getting the completely wrong end of the deal on my quality junk! I'd been waiting for a year to sell these tables, needing to get them out of my way to make room for new living room stuff. My goal was to make enough money to help a bit with the cost of new stuff. That plan totally backfired.

The only conclusion I can come to is that I just suck at garage sale. I mean, my friends are selling things left and right, raking in hundreds of dollars. They even sold an opened, not even half full bag of charcoal for $1.00. You can buy a whole bag of new charcoal at the store for close to a dollar. And who wakes up on a Saturday morning before it's even light outside and says, "Hmmm, I hope I find a few pieces of charcoal at a garage sale today." How did that sell?!?! I couldn't sell any of my stuff for full price, or even close to half price! And much of it went to the 'please take this free stuff' junk pile on the curb by the end of the day. It was good stuff! Way better than a few briquettes of charcoal. . .

All in all, it was an experience. Financially, it wasn't worth my time. But I will learn from the experience and know that next time I will likely make more money chopping up my tables and selling them as firewood. Firewood, with a story. . .

C.T.