A Bargain Hunters Paradise
By Stephenie Freeman

I love garage sales. What I mean to say is I love having garage sales. Even though they are a lot of work, I think that they are worth it. When it is all said and done, what I really enjoy is the great, big wad of cash in my pocket that I will use to buy more junk to replace all of the junk that I just sold. 

I am ashamed to say that I tend to accumulate a lot of stuff. We are a consumer nation and I am a participator every time I walk into a Target or find a great deal at T.J. Maxx. However, my moderately sized home can only hold so much. 

Now that I have kids my need to purge the clutter has drastically increased. Clothes that are quickly outgrown and toys that have been abandoned begin to make it difficult to close the closets. After strategic planning on my part, these quality children’s items are slowly snuck down into my secret pile. 

I always keep a garage sale pile in my basement. I am careful hide items like toys between the exercise bike that was going to solve all of my problems and my husband’s eight ball coffee table. My skinny clothes, a cake plate without a lid, a wooden giraffe are just a few of the items that find their way to the pile. Before long, as the pile begins to block my path to the washing machine, I realize that it is time to drag it all out onto my driveway for strangers to pick threw and cherish.

I love it that no matter what you price your garage sale items you will always find yourself selling them for less. Saturday morning sales are a bargainer’s paradise. 

“You’ve got five dollars on this. Will ya take twenty-five cents?” 

In retrospect, I see now that I should have taken my fifth grade class to garage sales every Saturday. They are a great opportunity for a quick lesson in economics and mathematics. 

(Thinking to myself.) “Let’s see. I paid one hundred for it. It is marked at five dollars, but sure I’ll give you for practically nothing.” 

Now class, how much of a discount is the nice lady having the garage sale giving to the cheap man in light blue overalls?

“A ninety-five percent discount! The best deal in town,” the class answers.

It’s enough to make you become a pack rat.

It does not matter how good your stuff is or how much it is really worth, the people who shop at garage sales want it for nothing. I made the mistake at my last sale of telling a woman that I would make her a deal if she bought a bunch of clothes. I thought it would give her more incentive to take the heavy, wool sweaters even though it was June. 

At first, we agreed on one dollar for each piece. After she dumped the gigantic pile on the table, she asked if she could have it all for fifty cents each instead. Starring at the pile of clothes from J. Crew, the Gap, and other top retailers, I reluctantly agreed to her total. Only at a garage sale can you get a thousand dollars worth of clothes for thirty bucks. 

Inevitably, days after my sale ends, my son will ask for his Superman pajamas that I sold for fifty cents. My husband will wonder where all of his John Grisham paperbacks disappeared to and eventually I will need that separated serving dish that sat in its box since my wedding day. But for now, I am happy that I can find things in my kitchen cabinets without digging and there is enough room in my closet to actually breathe. I am sure that the next time I am in Target I will find something for $9.99 that I can not live without and by next summer it will sit proudly on my card table in my driveway for twenty-five cents. 

Garage sales: they’re what keep our economy going.

 

Copyright 2006, Stephenie B. Freeman