If you’ve read my previous post, you know what an estate sale is and how we’ve been preparing for it.
Here’s how it went:
I got woken up at the crack of dawn (Seven thirty in the morning, but I’m a night owl and I usually sleep until ten) by my sister, who thrust my favorite Starbucks drink and a breakfast sandwich into my hands to stall my protests and hissed,
“People are in our living room buying our stuff, wake up!”
With that, she left. I drank my Starbucks drink, bewildered and slightly upset, ate my sandwich, and crept out of my room with my clothing to change. There was no way I was letting anyone come into MY house and buy stuff if I didn’t look absolutely beautiful, so I spent fifteen minutes doing my makeup, and slipped out the living room door to sit at the table and delight people with my presence, and also other things like helping them carry their stuff out to the car. Dad gave the “We’re going to Europe because we’re awesome and we’ll support ourselves by doing awesome things” speech five or six times, and I dropped a bag of golf clubs on my foot, which put a quick and brutal end to my ambitions of being helpful.
We sold around $500 worth of stuff, but none of it was the BIG stuff, which was what we were hoping would sell.
(Our Wii, our TV, our washer and dryer, basically none of the things above $100 sold.)
We got a pretty even stream of interesting people, such as:
–The small, squat accountant with the sweat-stained dress shirt and a calculator in his breast pocket, accompanied by his very fashionable and color-coordinated son who had a man purse and a blue-and-green paisley tie and a face like a duck. (Possibly gay. Doesn’t matter.)
–The black man with the artificial leg and a lisp who bought our microwave, along with his six-inch taller wife. (He wanted us to show him that the microwave worked so we plugged it in and pushed the little express 30 seconds button and then me, Mom, and the guy all stood there and watched the little turntable thing go round and round until it beeped, at which point he said he’d take it.)
–The tiny Mexican guy who talked in broken English and was really excited about our free barbecue but was denied by his wife. He kept going “Free? Free? No dinero? Free? and Mom kept saying “Yes, it’s free,” and he made little bird sounds to get his wife’s attention and then they had a conversation in rapid Spanish about the barbecue, which ended in the man heaving a huge sigh and trudging out the door, barbecue-less, along with his wife, who had bought some pots and utensils.
–An endless stream of curious neighbors, all of whom wanted to know where we were going and what we were doing and how we were going to make money, and then stood around and nodded wisely and talked about their own vacations in Europe and bought knickknacks to justify coming over.
-A very fit older woman who, after hearing Dad’s one minute “Our lives are awesome” spiel, warned us about pickpockets and shared a story about this one time when she and her daughter were sightseeing, got bored, and decided to watch the pickpockets at work. The daughter picked a guy out immediately, like: “That one. He’s the pickpocket,” so the two of them followed the guy around for a while at a discreet distance, hoping to see him in action. After a while, the guy sat down on a bench that had a woman on it, facing the opposite direction he was. Both of them sat there for a while, and then the guy pulled something out of his coat and discreetly handed it to the woman. They sat there a while longer, and left at separate times, then circled back around to rendezvous a while farther away so they could leave together. It seems that the guy had already stolen something and was handing it off.
We were pretty much cleaned out at the end of the day. We have no dishes, no couches, and our voices echo in the house every time we talk, but we still have all of the expensive stuff that we really wanted to sell. Mom and Dad are discussing whether or not to continue the estate sale tomorrow, as was the original plan, or not.
Let’s see what happens next.