I used to believe that the absolute worst of human behavior could be viewed at an all-you-can-eat buffet. People moving slowly down the line of choices to enhance obesity levels, stock pile on the favorite parts of fried chicken, poking through the piles destroying what they didn’t want, bypassing anything with a chance of nutrients, taking their sweet ass time staring as though the choices would magically change, and finally leaving behind plates of foods that could feed a family of five in poverty stricken (insert foreign nation here).
Now before you judge me on my judging, that was me. I didn’t eat healthy foods and I left small scraps of food I wanted to try, but I did know not to push my fat ass past people, to move quickly out of the way, and thank and tip the people that cleaned up the evidence of my poor eating decisions. I at least knew I sucked. That being said, I now know this is just second place in the Gathering of Entitled Asshole-a-poloza.
I live in a condo. I do not have access to the space one would be able to have a garage sale. Since that is my situation, I bought space in a flea market type event held by a local elementary school. Twenty-five dollars would allow me to bypass advertising and welcoming strangers into my home.
For those of you just joining me, I have a gambling “situation”. I refer to it as a “situation” because it’s not gambling that I must do. I have a competition problem. I love to win, to be great at what I’m doing. Gambling happens to be an activity that I can do. Granted, I have become a better loser with card games and such, but for gambling, it just means knowing when you’ve lost too much. The reason I mention this is because I have spent many a weekend at Circus-Circus. When the machines aren’t taking up my time, I enjoy the carnival games meant to distract the kids while their parents lose their college fund at the craps table.
My other problem is being a sucker for cute stuffed animals. So cute I must have them! Hot pink gorilla, come on! Wait, neon green and florescent blue? I must have them all! And then I do. I drop ten, twenty, thirty to play games to win three bucks worth of felt and fuzz. I also know that I love that I mastered a game to win them. Sadly, not win them in one shot, but have to get the two of the small to win the medium and then two medium gets me the large. Do that three times to win three gorillas and I’m down not just money, but a bit of my dignity and the respect of my boyfriend. But I collected all three, so I’m so happy!
That is until a year letter when my closet is literally filled with cute stuffed evidence of my problem. I can justify that growing up the youngest of four, I’m compensating for only getting to have so much as a child. However, that’s an insult to my two amazing parents that never let me feel that I was “without”. So I finally realize that I must let go of my inanimate companions despite the love at first sight relationship we had and the childlike happiness they granted me.
That’s what leads me to my first and (I must stress) last flea market selling experience. I’m not going to claim to have high quality merchandise, so much as animals that weren’t slobbered on and destroyed like most people cart to this type of event. However, for some reason, people think that what I have to offer is not work the sunburn I got to drag it out to sell it. (Sorry, one gripe at a time.)
Let’s start from the beginning. In addition to my collection of animals, I have TV on DVD sets that need to be adopted by those who can better appreciate it. If the idea that a car losses a third of its value once it’s off the lot is true, then I’d like to think my prices are reasonable. I bought my seasons for about thirty dollars each. I’m pricing them at ten. I’ve watched them once and they have sat on a shelf for the rest of the time. No bites. Okay, not the correct audience. No problem. That’s what eBay is for.
Now the animals. I had them on a blanket and I should have known that little kids would come to plan with them. Many did and a few were bought. It was the sweet older sister that got her brother a red shark and friend a purple sting-ray that made me smile. She was polite and that was more than enough reason to give her the matching blue shark and blue sting-ray. She was gracious and thanked me. Thank you, universe! Proof a good child exists without parents threatening in the background. The other person that sticks out in my mind is the kind older woman who liked my felt flowers. She bought two and I asked her if she wanted the rest. She asked how much and I told her she could just have them. Again, kind person deserves kindness in return. I hold onto these encounters to keep my blood pressure boiling as I recall the rest of the day.
Again, I had a blanket of animals for all to see. Apparently that means, play with them, and then when you are done, toss them down when you know you won’t buy them. Yes, I’ve played with animals before in Toys ’R Us. But seriously: RESPECT FOR OTHER PEOPLE’S PROPERTY! I had two kids thanked me for not yelling at them for playing with the things like the other vendors. That’s respect and enjoying merchandise. It can happen. But everyone else didn’t seem to understand that. It’s essentially “let me rape your stuff before giving it back”.
Now for those who decided that they were going to rape it AND get off while I watched helplessly, they would try to haggle. Okay, haggling is fine. It’s a flea market after all. But I came with what I hoped was a realistic price on things. Apparently, one third of retail is not enough of a bargain. You tell them a price and they still want it for lower. I offered a workout DVD for two bucks and it still wasn’t low enough. One chick grabbed four workout DVDs and three TV seasons and offered five for the handful. I said ten and it was still too high. So many people were trying to low ball me on a bike. Bikes are hundreds of dollars and forty was too much for everyone. Eventually I though people don’t want the bike. They just want a bike they can say they paid ten bucks for.
I know it sounds childish, but I’d rather give it to Goodwill then let some unreasonable assholes have it. At least with charity, it’s going to a good cause and I can write off the ACTUAL value of it. And I’m not alone. I spoke to some of the volunteer parents who were running the event. One said she’d let other people price her stuff and in the end you can’t even give it away. She didn’t use the words I know she wanted to, but could read her disdain. It helped to have a partner in contempt for five minutes.
My boyfriend calls me cheap. I wish everyone was cheap like me. I know the value of things and prices should reflect that. What is wrong with that? Oh, right, people. I forgot.
All that being said, the surviving animals have been donated to be part of a church carnival booth. The DVD sets will go on eBay and the bike is going on Craigslist. I had to take a Silkwood shower to wash the day off me. It’ll take a few more days for the sunburn to heal. If I’m lucky I’ll get the grease stains off my back seat from transporting the bike. I made the rental fee back so I guess it’s a push. But the lesson I learned in human nature: priceless. (Okay, not really. More like six bucks.)
