There comes a time in every twenty-something's life when you realize you need money. It's a sad day when you and your equally poor friends realize, short of selling yourself by the hour, you lack any valuable skills to apply in some sort of freelance creative side job. You all agree what you do have is garbage. Not that stinky banana peel kind of garbage. No. This garbage is much worse. It's that arm pit sweat-stained shirt you once loved. You're now praying someone else may love it with lovely yellowed under arm spots for only a dollar? It's the Gwen Stefani CD with a few great tracks you listened to at least 2 or 3 times before deciding it really isn't good music. Someone will love Gwen singing out the spelling of BANANAS a few too many times, right? Maybe for a quarter?
I'm proud to announce someone DID! I sold enough fifty cent garbage to collect several dozen dollars folks. I felt like a little kid
who made a few bucks at a lemonade stand. RICH! A little less poor at least. I was rich in quarters, dimes, and more singles than a stripper on a Friday night. I was also rich with my cultural experience as I had a front row seat to the freak show that is the garage sale aficionado parade. I'm not sure what I expected. These are people who dig through your garbage for their treasures. I guess I just didn't expect some of the looney tunes who meandered around the driveway and walked out with treasures only a homeless person could love.
Needless to say... a great day overall. Much thanks goes to our dear friend Donny who modeled the "luxury items" for us. Thanks to his Asian persuasion, we sold them both.
