Misanthropes shouldn't have garage sales

Posted by jdg | Sunday, August 20, 2006 |

From the moment the early-morning garage sale vultures swooped in as I set out the first piece of furniture, I should have known today was going to be hell. Things I learned today:

1. The next time I go to China, I am totally going to employ the method of bargaining that 90 percent of our Chinese customers used today, which was simply insulting the hell out of any item they wanted to buy. "This high chair very dirty. Oh look, so dirty. We pay $5." No, I said, we are selling it for $20. "It very ugly. We pay $6," came the response.

2. Even if your moving sale is clearly taking place on the sidewalk, don't leave your garage door open with all the stuff you're planning to move inside unless you want to find a 100-year old Russian man picking through your boxed DVD collection after the sale is supposed to be over.

3. If a gutterpunk and his friend limp up to you, and one's got a fresh bloody four-inch gash down his shin and he tells you he'll give you $2.00 for some hydrogen peroxide, do it. After swabbing his wound with your paper towels (and asking to throw them in your garbage) and then washing his hands with your rubbing alcohol, he may light up a cigarette three feet from your baby and buy an Evil Dead 2 VHS tape for 50 cents.

4. Garage sale shoppers are fucking cheap, man. And that's a black pot talking.

5. Just when you think your misanthropy is going to overtake you and you're going to throw your TV at the next old Chinese lady who insists it's only worth 50 cents, some nice person who reads your blog will stop by to give a perfectly-sized goodbye gift and a hug to make everything better.

6. And if, after a day filled with arguments with Russian ladies and gay guys who are pissed because you already sold the Eames chair you advertised on craigslist and now all you have is IKEA crap, you are understandably exhausted, don't fall asleep on a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of your living room (because there is no longer a couch there), or your wife will pose Evil Addie on your shoulder for pictures once you're passed out: