Ever had a garage sale? You might like this story.

[cata5]

Call me crazy, but this seemed sooo funny to me when I read it.

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Al Sicherman: Let the cellar beware


Published October 20, 2003 SIC20

Uncle Al has spent lots of spare time in his basement recently, sorting through box-after-box that had been piled all over the floor, then emptying chaotic shelf-after-shelf into box-after-box and lugging them to where he'd sorted the other box-after-box(es?).

This was a task Uncle Al had planned since his son David's last visit, when Uncle Al had to move boxes to clear a path across the basement so David could get to his bedroom.

Uncle Al's dream was twofold: to elevate the level of the basement, so to speak, by removing lots of useless clutter, and to make a little cash selling useless clutter to discriminating citizens in a yard sale.

He had to stop partway through sorting both kinds of box-after-box, because he was running out of time before the Theater of Seasons rang down its icy curtain on such outdoor frivolities as yard sales.

Uncle Al planned a Friday-Saturday sale, and all that week he spent evenings pricing stuff and hauling bags of it out to the garage. And while he was out there he also sorted the pile of stuff that had taken over the garage workbench, producing several extra bags for the sale.

(The sale was to be on Uncle Al's front lawn instead of in the garage because the garage is full of stuff he doesn't want to sell, and the leftover space isn't big enough to display the stuff he does.) (Want to.) (Sell.)

Ready to roll

Thursday night he garaged the truck (packed full of bags to drive to the front yard Friday morning). He felt good: He had emptied almost half the open basement area -- clear back to the door to David's room.

Friday went very nicely. It was a beautiful day, friends from work dropped by on their lunch hour, another came by to provide food and a bathroom break, and Fuzzy kept him dogged company some of the time. But Fuzzy barked at folks who struck him as particularly menacing, so sometimes he was forced to watch through the front window. (Uncle Al figured browsers didn't want Bowsers pulling at trousers.)

Uncle Al sold some stuff. But most visitors seemed to be retired folks, and he anticipated that he'd do better Saturday, when people with jobs and a taste for partial socket-wrench sets would be on the loose.

He did have to put most of the stuff back in the garage overnight, but that was easy: He put it all back into bags, loaded them into the truck, and drove it around and into the garage.

That's when he noticed that the last time he put Fuzzy back inside he had unaccountably failed to close the kitchen door, and Fuzzy (who although low to the ground is very long and can thus be very tall) had taken advantage of this rare opportunity and had eaten an entire small bag of dog treats and half a box of Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls off the kitchen table (and was now hiding upstairs).

Some rain was predicted for Saturday, but Uncle Al had planned for it: After he drove everything back out to the front yard Saturday morning, he arranged a long sheet of clear plastic to be ready to cover the tables, on which he had arrayed the kitchen-type stuff. The tools and hardware, on a tarp on the lawn, could handle a little moisture unprotected.

Light wind with a few sprinkles developed early-on, and Uncle Al covered the tables with the plastic. It worked, but he didn't sell much.

About 10:30 the weather eased, and Uncle Al folded up the plastic. He sold a few things before it began to blow much harder, and then to rain. Now things like the tortilla press weren't enough to anchor the plastic, so Uncle Al tied the ends to the table legs, but the wind kept lifting it in the middle, the rain was getting heavier and stuff was getting wet.

A precipitate decision

Around noon, as soon as Uncle Al decided to throw in the towel, so to speak, and start putting things away, it began to pour. He ran into the house with the few items that had to be kept dry, then began to pack all the other stuff into rapidly soggying paper bags. (Memo to self: What had happened to all the empty box-after-boxes?)

He couldn't put the bags into the open back of the truck for transport to garage; they'd be sitting there getting wetter until the last of them was packed, and it would take too long to carry them back to the garage two at a time as he filled them, so whenever he got a couple of bags filled, Uncle Al ran them into the living room.

By time the last hardware from the tarp was safely stowed, everything -- including the bags and Uncle Al -- was really soaking wet, and Uncle Al was exhausted. But he couldn't help noticing that during his rush to get stuff into the house he had apparently entered the kitchen and again not closed the door, this time giving Fuzzy the opportunity to eat a great many cookies and go upstairs to hide.

Uncle Al took a shower, did a little rearranging of the huge mess in the living room, and when the rain began to ease he returned the rented tables, after which he went to his piano lesson on what by then had turned into a sunny afternoon.

He came home to a living room that smelled like a wet dog and a dog who smelled like a wet living room. The idea of schlepping all the wet bags full of wet stuff out to the garage was just too much, but Uncle Al was having company Sunday and he needed to clean and start cooking so the next day wouldn't be frantic.

So he took all the bags . . . back down to the basement. Although he had sold a fair amount of stuff on Friday, the sale included some stuff from the garage that had never been in the basement, so the new pile covered about half the floor -- clear back to the door to David's room.

But now it was wet.


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[twokidsinoneyear]

That seems to be the way my garage sales go. The last one we had I hauled everything to the next town over about 10 miles and then the weather was off and on rainy most of the morning. It did clear up and we made a little over $100 but man it was so much work! Also it used up my moms whole day off from work. My dad had to keep part of the kids. The whole ordeal just made everyone cranky!!!

Since then I have been bagging up the clothes and giving them away!

[jennnowell]

Cute story! I'm a garage sale junkie. I love to go to them but, having one is a different story. I did give in a have one two weeks ago as I am moving to another state soon and needed to unload some stuff. Boy was it hard work but, we did manage to make almost $400.00 on a bunch of junk and my kids were able to get a DVD player for the car that they had really been wanting. I guess it was worth it. It certainly made them happy!!!!!!!!! Garage sales are WORK but the end result can be good! We definately have less stuff to move from state to state!

[Pipanella]

We just had one last weekend, and between my grandma, mom, my two girls and me, we made $1700!!

Sooooooooo much work, but we did get rid of a lot of stuff.

That story is too funny. I'm going to print it out and have my grandma and my mom read it.