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10:54 a.m. - 2001-08-11

YARD SALE RULE #1 ... WE DON'T TALK ABOUT YARD SALES

What in the stinkin' hell is wrong with yard sailors?

Once again, I decided to get up early and go to yard sales by myself because I KNOW what I want, whereas my wife wants to look at everything and spent 20 minutes at each sale, chatting with the people throwing the sale and exchanging baby stories and shit.

Me?

I get out of the car, prance around the yard like an antelope on speed and if I don't see anything that catches my fancy I'm back in the car, speeding recklessly to the next sale, running over anybody or anything stupid enough to get in my way.

About 6:45 this morning, I stopped at a sale.

They had a Little Tykes car. Red with a yellow top. Propelled by scurrying toddler feet. Perfect for Andy.

Twenty-five motherfucking dollars.

Pulllllllease. This is a yard sale...NOT Toys 'R' Us.

Usually, I don't haggle over prices. Most people are intelligent enough to price their items at a reasonable amount and I pay that price.

But 25 bucks for a used toy??? You must be out of your everloving mind, lady.

"Is this really $25," I asked the woman in charge.

She looked at it, studied it for a second and said "Yes, 25 dollars."

"Is there something special about it?" I asked, turning the thing around and searching for a gold plated license plate or something.

"No," the lady said. "My son outgrew it."

"I'll give you $10 for it," I said boldly.

"Sorry," the lady said "Twenty-five dollars. It's still early in the day."

I WANTED that car.

"Fifteen bucks," I said.

"Do you know how much these cost brand new?" she asked.

"Right around fifty bucks," I bluffed. I had no earthly idea how much it cost brand new...I haven't been pricing the damned things. Hellooooo?? I have a life, lady.

"More like seventy-five," she said, tending to other matters while she spoke.

"Okay," I conceded. "Good luck with your sale."

I walked out of her yard toward my car, waiting for her to call out "Oh, sir! I'll sell it to you for ten dollars! I've come to my senses and realize I'm a brain-dead bitchtard who has no business trying to decide how much I should price used items for in a yard sale!"

...Nothing.

I got in my car, hit a few other sales. Got Andy some books, a stuffed Pooh doll in great condition, a Buzz Lightyear doll, some puzzles and a new telephone that lights up whenever he pushes the buttons.

I was on my way home when I thought..."I wonder if that car ever sold."

I zipped down some side streets and made my way back to the sale.

Turned the corner...and saw the red and yellow from a block away.

STILL THERE!!

I got out of the car and at first I don't think the lady recognized me. When you're throwing a yard sale, you see so many large white guys desperate for some children's toys, they all begin to look alike.

"Hi," I said. "Still have the car, I see."

The lady stiffened.

"You still want $25 for it?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "All the money goes to my son who's going to buy some new toys with it."

GOOD GOD, LADY!!!

Lemme see if I've got this straight...you're selling dirty old used toys at HUGE MARKUPS, so your bratty little son can buy even MORE TOYS to scuff up so that in two years you can turn around and RESELL THEM for HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS?!?

Okay...I woulda gladly paid $25 for this piece of crap if it was going towards charity or something. But to just turn the money over to Junior who has absolutely NO CONCEPT of pricing items for a yard sale....that, m' dear...IS F'N ABSURD!

I was so appalled that I turned around in a circle. Only one time, I didn't make a big deal about it. I have no idea why I turned around in a circle. I guess I was just angry and the only thing I could think to do was turn around in circle. It's the same thing when I'm in a traffic jam. I get so frustrated that I burst out into hymns.

So I left. I seriously thought about laying a ten and a five down on her crappy little card table, scooping up the car and running like the dickens.

But I didn't.

Andy didn't need the stupid car anyway.

Goddamned yard sailors.

They're out to ruin my day, I'm tellin' ya.

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