What is it about garage sales? This past weekend, my neighborhood had a garage sale, and it seemed that just as the sun was coming up, there were people driving around, parking, prepped to get their shop on. They had coffee, donuts, water bottles and their deal shoes on. NOTHING was stopping them. For two days, our street looked more like 94 than quiet ol’ Misty Creek.
Personally, I’m not a fan of garage sales. I’m not into clutter, and I’m constantly getting rid of things I don’t use. The last thing I want to do is go paw through someone else’s sloppy seconds. Well, I felt that way until I had a kid. Now I will go to garage sales if I know there is a possibility of scoring a great deal on some over-priced gadget that my son will use maybe twice in his life. I’m talking about people that LIVE for garage sales. It’s like a second job for them. They creep me out, like those extreme coupon people, “Look, I got 30 cases of Ramen Noodles for FREE!” Good for you lady, guess what, the medical care you’re going to need after consuming that much Ramen won’t be free, I can assure you.
The only thing I dislike more than going to a garage sale, is hosting one. The museum I work at is currently preparing for one of the biggest garage sales I have ever seen in my life. So I have been helping out, going through bags, and boxes, and crates of random crap. It gives me the heebies. I feel slightly voyeuristic, like I’m poking around in someone’s diary. Old clothes, jewelry, bedding, books. I get a sense for what this person was like, and I wonder, if they have passed on, what they think of me tossing their once-loved objects into the trash because I don’t think it will sell?
I also feel so gross and dirty, and wouldn’t be surprised to find bugs crawling on me. When I bust open a bag of old bedding that has that distinct, musty attic or crawl space smell, I can almost hear the bed bugs scream in unison “GET HER!” The only thing good about being involved in this process, is that it reinforces my OCD to constantly de-clutter and get rid of crap I don’t use. I don’t want some poor schmuck going through my crap after I have kicked it saying, “More New Kids on the Block stuff? What a weirdo STALKER!” or “Ok, someone was obsessed with purple!”
So, should you find yourself at a garage sale, and you happen upon a stack of cute Santa plates, or a darling lawn duck, no need to share your score with me. I’m all set. Oh, and if you are one of those who are obsessed with garage sales, go to the Kalamazoo Institute of Arts May 18 (8-5) and 19 (8-noon). Trust me, your brain will explode.
I’ll be in the shower, delousing.