The World is Going to Hell in a Handbasket

My grandfather's death left 50 years of collected parapharnelia filling an entire house, which of course, his survivors must dispense of somehow. And HOW, you may ask? Well, how else!? An estate sale!

As The Walking Guilt Trip tends to raise her nose at buying other people's used crap, she was not inclined to sell used crap to other people. She intended to pay Crap-Picker-Uppers thousands of dollars to haul away said crap.

For a few reasons - I hate seeing usable things go into the landfill, I can't stand not making money when I otherwise could have made money, and indeed, because I am a masochist - I volunteered to help dispose of heaps and heaps of crap and named myself the Very Important Person in Charge of This Estate Sale.

Now, everyone knows a garage sale is a lot of work and while you can make a couple hundred bucks, you've gotta kinda really WANT that hundred bucks... because you're going to have to deal with Garage-Salers. The ones that ask you if you'll take 75 cents instead of a buck for that brand new snow shovel that cost you 20 bucks just last year.

Everyone knows to expect this. I knew to expect this.

There are two things that I did not expect.

One: a nice looking lady who asked me the price of two chairs which were clearly labelled as $20 apiece, $30 for the pair (while "accidentally" covering the price tag with her thumb), talked me down to $20 for the pair, then LIED to The Unsupportive Louse, telling him I'd agreed to $15 for the pair, told me I simply didn't remember when I corrected her, and finally, after paying only $28 for crap we'd labelled for at least $60 and that really would have cost her $400, she picks up a 50 cent plate and asks, "Will you throw this in for free?"
Now, clearly, I wanted to yell "No, ya dumb bi-otch, pay the F-ing 50 cents- it's only 50 god damned cents!!" But, you know, it IS just 50 cents, so I didn't. But I still hated her a little bit.
Which is why what she did next shocked the shit out of me.
She gave me her real estate card, told me to give her a call when we were selling the house.
Give you a call? Give me my $32.50 and you can have my seven THOUSAND dollar commission! Think maybe it would have been worth it? Dumbass!!

But story number two may have surprised me even more. Why? Because it was a sweet, sweet little old lady.
Three of them showed up together - as several of my grandparent's friends were stopping by to say their farewells to the house and maybe pick up a Doris flower pot memento, I momentarily thought they may part of that crowd...but I sure as hell hope not now.
They picked over stuff all slow and old-lady like, and one bought a 25 cent piece of costume jewelry. Sweet, sweet little old lady had a $2 "Santa Stops Here" sign in her hand at that moment, standing at the little cash table. I ask if she's ready. She says she's going to go inside to look at the furniture first. Because you're going to actually BUY the furniture, lady? You're like 97. But sure, whatever, feel free to pretend. She ambles inside, checks out the furniture. Ambles back out just about two seconds later. I'm busy helping another cheapskate but see them out of the corner of my eye, walking to their car. Sweet, sweet little old lady STOLE a TWO DOLLAR Santa sign. Are you kidding me? And old people think it's the YOUNG people that are screwing up this world? UGH! (Oh, and don't even TRY to tell me she forgot, that malicious old devil did it on purpose without a doubt!)

No thanks to these two jerk-offs, the estate sale was quite successful. You can rest assured The Energizer Bunny will now be able to enroll for 2 college units. So long as the rate of our education fund keeps up with the rate of the rising tuition. And so long as he goes to a community college. And lives at home. And walks to school. And eats Ramen for every meal.

Definitely worth it.