Tuesday, May 08, 2012

I have officially learned my lesson.

I am so one of those people that can not Be Told anything. I have to do it myself to understand how it works or doesn't work at all or how awesome it is or, in this case, how massively it sucks the life force from my soul.

And in this case that life force sucking thing was having a garage sale.

I fucking hate garage sales.

I don't go to them. I don't participate in them. I don't even like to be on the same block as them when they're underway. I used to re-route my Saturday long run course mid-run (which I NEVER do) to avoid the fucking things because I knew I was just going to end up re-routing myself off the sidewalk and into the street anyway to avoid psycho garage salers haggling over piles of old OshKosh B'gosh toddler overalls and shade-less table lamps and shit.

UGH. LOATHE.

But then I grew 99 tomato plants from seed and had a minor meltdown when I came to terms with the fact that my yard was only going to absorb .05% of those plants and the rest had to go *somewhere*.

But where?

Certainly my mom and nice neighbors couldn't take 94 tomato plants. And there are only, like, 5 people in my office who would want/have room for/have interest in tomato plants. And probably only, like, a few people in Blogland who live close enough and who care enough to haul over to my house for a plant they can probably get for $3 within spitting distance of their own garden, even if the plant IS free.

So yeah, that still left me with 80+ tomato plants. Plus all this other shit I decided to grow from seed during my Hey, I Know How To Grow Plants From Seed Now Watch The Hell Out bonanza of 2012.

Thus entered the garage sale idea.

See, we have this mid-spring neighborhood garage sale every year that is widely and enthusiastically attended by people who frequent garage sales. There are ads placed in papers and on Craigslist. There are balloons inflated and tied to things. There are cars parked just everyfuckingwhere. It's madness.

Usually, Bubba and I make a point of leaving town for the weekend so that we don't have to deal with it because if there's anyone on the planet who hates garage sales and all that they entail more than I do, it's Bubba.

Oh the burning hatred in his soul for garage/yard/tag sales. It is intense. It singes passersby. It ignites the dog's fur if she happens to be right there.

The man does not *do* garage sales in any form.

So you can imagine my declaration that I was "totally doing this year's neighborhood garage sale to sell off all the tomato plants taking over our kitchen! See! Don't worry!" went over really well.

I believe it was met with icy questioning stares and the counter-declaration that he would be either in Tahoe or hiding in an undisclosed location throughout the event and also WTF.

But I was so relieved to have an outlet for all these 80+ tomato plants that I would surely have just lingering about in my yard going unspoken for. Oh the tragedy of sowing and watering and tending and shuffling in and out of the house and loving and caring for 99 tomato plants only to have them go into the compost pile.

WOE! The thought was too much to bear.

But then, people came.
More than just these people.
I just didn't take pictures of everyone.

Just like when Kevin Costner did it except that I didn't have a soothsaying soul standing by to reassure me with a deep voice and a shitty attitude.

Instead, I had the internets and some enthusiastic neighbors and a handy sign up form and then, suddenly, I only had about 30 plants left.

30 plants that I *probably* could have found homes for without introducing the horror of a garage sale in our driveway.

Without the aggravation of people haggling over one damn dollar.

Without the time wasted pulling other shit out of the garage to sell because "I can't just have a few tomato plants for sale and nothing else. We might as well make use of this pain in my ass to get rid of some of this shit."

Without the extra time wasted waiting around for people to come back and pick up the giant things they bought that don't fit in their Geo Metros or whatever shit cars people drive to garage sales when they're looking for a dining room table but OH don't have any way to get it home and hey you have a truck can you bring it to my house.

Really, by the way? Do you really go shopping for furniture at garage sales driving the smallest mass produced car from the 1990s? Did you, by any chance, take physics in high school? Because them numbers just don't work out. You make no sense. Do not come to my driveway looking to buy big things that don't fit in your beer can car and then get all flustered when SUPER DOUBLE DUH they don't fit in the hatchback even with the seats down and then ask me to drive them to your house when you paid nothing for it and offer me nothing to deliver it and JUST NO.

Also, no, you may not borrow my tools to disassemble it in my driveway.

LOATHE.

Alas, that is what I did. I brought Garage Sale into our lives and OH it was EW.

The good part was that I sold off the 30 or so remaining plants within the first hour and so was left without the pain and agony of What Will Happen To My Babies.

The bad part was everything else. Haggling over the price for shit that had been languishing in my garage for years. Disassembling furniture for retards who don't know how to manipulate a wrench and drive cars ill-equipped for their shopping habits. Finding teeth in a jewelry box that a neighbor was selling while I briefly watched her post (oh wow gross).

ALL OF THESE THINGS AND MORE were the bad part.

However, once all was said and done and I had my 50 or so big dollars for AIDS LifeCycle, I took Bubba out for tacos and then hung out in my backyard AWAY FROM ALL PEOPLE, listened to the Giants game and took a fat awesome nap without any little tomato plants laying guilt trips on me about "Well where am I going to go?"

And the Giants won so YAY.

Never again with the garage sale, y'all. I'll just have to figure out another way to offload the hundreds of plants I'm sure to grow next year.

12 comments:

  1. I think I found difference number two. I love going to garage and estate sales. I hate having them, though. I once had a guy offer me 25 cents for a Barbie I was selling for 50 cents. And I almost ripped his eyeballs out.

    Having said that, I'm having a garage sale sometime this month.

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    1. That would have been a really good time to dust off the old Fuck Off button and bounce that extra quarter off his forehead.

      I will pray for you.

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  2. Me neither. Though I do shop at thrift stores, which seems as if it should be related, but I can't stand garage sales.

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    1. Yeah. I kinda suck at thrift stores, but definitely consider them above grody garage sales. At least in a thrift shop things are grouped together in meaningful-esque ways. No baby dolls mixed with dog beds with an old book and a pile of grandma's old tablecloths.

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  3. You're too funny! But hello. You're in CA. That's what people drive in CA, right? If you wanted pickemups, you have to be "back here". As for next year, is there a local garden club or extension that would be glad to take your babies for their annual plant sale???

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    1. Um, Anna - WE have a pickemup truck. Though, we also have a Prius, so oh well on that.

      Local garden club...that's an idea. There's always the master gardener's plant sale, but I think you have to be a Master Gardener for that. Which I'm not yet. Maybe one day.

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  4. THANK YOU - THANK YOU - THANK YOU for your most "Realistic" assessment of what Garage-Sales are like! I live "just around the corner" from a Home Depot and have, often, entertained the idea of starting a boatload of seedlings in my greenhouse and offering them up for sale in a "Garage-Sale" kinda format. Posting signs next to HD and whatnot (I'd make a killing, right???). Never did it, but thought about it many-many-many times. I am SOOOOO glad that idea never came to fruition!!!

    So, yes, THANKS AGAIN!!!!

    BTW - The Finny Farm 'Maters got planted today (YAYYYY!!!) http://imqtpi.blogspot.com/2012/05/finny-farm-update.html

    Next up: Gonna get my Garden-Geek-on and rig-up the Time-Lapse Plant-Cam to get a video of the Finny-Farm "In Action!!!"

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    1. Seriously. Do not do this. You will become homicidal. No one appreciates your plants appropriately at a garage sale. They just want to buy something for half what you're selling it for.

      Ingrates.

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  5. Haha, you crack me up. If I promise to get my husband to make some raised planter beds this year, can I get on the "Want to buy plants from Finny and I promise not to haggle!" list?

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    1. Yes you absolutely may. And you can come to my house and pick up your plants from my backyard like a civilized person. But only if you promise to bring Lucy so that I can cuddle her cute Corgi face.

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  6. Sad we didn't take a picture! I need to get mine in the ground still I'll feel like a total failure if I kill them off.

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  7. oh finny, you did the garage sale thing and lived to tell about it? i swear, i almost got committed to an insane asylum when i had a garage sale. i had a couple of horrific men decide it was appropriate to invite themselves into my HOUSE and start saying "any electronics in here?"... and then a nice gentleman haggling with my nephew for his tv he was selling at a STEAL, the man who wouldn't let his wife buy my donald pliner sandals for $2 and offered me .25 for them... yeah - i almost committed some major crime that day. good thing i wasn't selling a machete that was laying about nearby. oh and that being said, i'll TOTALLY buy your tomato plants from you next year! i just planted about 20 different heirlooms in planter boxes against my house and i'm crossing my fingers all pans out. my hubby prepared the boxes for me for m-day and my son planted a small herb garden for me and i'm just in heaven. i haven't had a garden for a few years and it's been killing me. we have no yard right now so hopefully it works out. we planted bush beans, a couple of kinds of squash and a gazillion tomatoes. keep those green fingers crossed for my finny - i'm a girl who loves tomatoes! i made your finny tomato sauce with red wine about 6 million times and i rarely share it with anyone! oh and don't listen to anna.. stuck in indiana - about what cars us tree huggers drive... she has an inner-california girl waiting to get out. we just need to get her to leave her job, home and family for what's really important in life - the ocean, sunshine, better produce and funkier friends! i'll keep working on her from my end and you keep working on her from yours.

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[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.

Cheers.