I had to interrupt this woman on her cell phone to tell her this wasn’t a yard sale. We were just cleaning. We had a free table, with stuff like… a full cat paraphenalia-scratching post, kitty litter pan, cover & rake- fireplace irons, plastic cups, oh treasures galore.
It was like “flip this garage.” The goal being to sweep out corners of weird random rodent feces & spider nests. Falling asleep last night I kept on wondering if some spiders had fell in my hair.
We got designer-ey (much as Flip this House gets that way too) when we dealt with the back window, which had been obscured by a large bookshelf full of boxes. So we wiped it down, placed ornamentally some license plates and a wood golf club my dad had gotten in high school- a really wood- wood.
Lady stopped by and argued with us about the sale. “It’s a sale!” We’re like, no it’s not, we’re cleaning. Her: “But I saw a sign!” Us: “We have a sign that says “NOT A Yard sale.” What, does she think she can strong-arm us into selling her these chairs? “Oh you’re right, how lame of us to put something out here and not sell it to you. Here you go.” ???
Strangely, I overheard my dad say to one of my siblings that he’s inspired now, to have a yard sale.