As I try and write this for the third time, I realize, I have mixed emotions about yard sales. It’s a wild situation in my head right now. I never go to normal yard sales. Like, if it’s on the corner of whoever street and whatever street, I will not give it the time of day. But, if you take that same yard sale and stick that puppy on the side of US 68 in a yard with four other yard sales, I’ll slap the blinker and see what kind of junk you got.
The 400 mile yard sale peaks my interest. Not because I’m looking for a deal on a slightly used 1980 Murray lawn mower, but rather because of the amount of random items you can find. I am never looking for anything, but if I stumble across a laser pointer that can blind a 747, that’s hard to pass up. You can keep your vintage mason jars, but that cardboard cut out of Ward Burton is coming home with me.
I also enjoy seeing the items that anyone with a brain wouldn’t try to sell. Things like shoes, panties, bras, and bed side commodes. I’ve seen a set of dentures for sale. I don’t know much about dentures, but who walks through there and says, “Hell Ethel, with a little peroxide them babies will be good as new. Never too early to start planning for retirement.”
Last year, I saw a guy carrying a deer mount to his truck. It wasn’t even a big deer. How bad do you have to suck at hunting to buy another mans mounted deer? This was in Todd County, I have no idea what’s going on over there. It gives me trust issues though. Next time I go to an outdoorsman’s home and see his wall of death, I’m gonna need some pretty convincing stories behind each deer.
The people you encounter while shopping are the best. Last year, a guy gave me a big speech about why I should buy a particular wrench. He wasn’t even the guy selling the wrench, he was just fired up about it. I wonder what kind of life you have to live to get that hype over a wrench?
I bought a sledge hammer from a guy for five bucks one year. I didn’t even need a sledge hammer and the head was falling off of it, but I spent about fifteen minutes at his table and he never bothered me once. We didn’t even speak during the transaction. I just gave him a look that said, “I respect the way you do business, so here’s an Abraham Lincoln for this piece of shit hammer no one else is gonna buy.” He nodded in agreement.
No one likes going to the booth where the lady harasses you until you buy a box full of cassette tapes just to shut her up. Sure, she may make more money in a day than the guy who sold me my hammer, but he can go home knowing he didn’t make someone wish he was dead that day and that’s worth something.
If you partake in the 400 mile yard sale, good luck and happy hunting. Be sure to take your phone with you and send us pictures of the random stuff you find. The best ones will get posted on our Facebook and Twitter page. You can send them to firstname.lastname@example.org, message us on Facebook, or tweet us @theoakdale.