Tale of a Sale
by Charles with some embellishments by Kate
Despite blistering sweat inducing temperatures and rampant SoCal
apathy,
the SoCal Bastards raised $222.46 for Oregon
(Alright! WHO sold
something for a penny?). Kate, in the tradition of Bastard
Goddessness (NEW WORD), managed to brow-beat Marlena, Charles,
Glenda,
Margaret, Terri and Leroy (who is still not a member but, with
enough
arm twisting and idle threats, will be) into donating items and
precious
time. (Note from Kate: Charles likes to pretend I was
brow-beating him.
I did no such thing.)
The highlight of the morning was seeing Kate's boyfriends mom
telling
all the little old ladies about Bastard Nation and being damn
proud of
it.
The main reason to have a yard sale are the all-to-brief
encounters with
the consuming public. One of our favorites came in the form of a
simple
book buyer. She holds up one paperback and says, "How
much?" Kate
replies, "Twenty-five cents" The yard patron twists her
lip-stick
encased mouth and says, "He may already have this book. How
about a
dime?" Sadly, Kate caved. Heat stroke weakens even the
strongest of
Bastards.
We pawned a leaky Thigh-Master onto a man, convincing him it was
a
device to build strength in his upper arms. A most beautiful
sight -
seeing him walk proudly down the palm tree lined street pumping
away on
his new found Home Fitness System. We were polite enough to laugh
only
after he was out of earshot. (What was that thing leaking
anyway?) We
tried to offer it as a package deal with a jump rope but,
alas, it didn't work. Charles managed to sweet-talk a man into
buying it
with the enticing, "You can always tie someone up with
it" line. Who
hasn't heard that once or twice in their life, eh?
Bras were a hot item, they went early in the day. Brightly
colored
underwear was not. One lady opened up a tube of lipstick then
promptly
dropped it into the dirt. She glanced around then stuck it back
on the
table. She didn't think we saw that. Anyway, the lipstick that
didn't
sell all melted by the end of the day. We offered package deals
through
the day. Our favorite was a gift basket filled with bath products
combined with a Harry Connick Jr. CD.
One man picked up a small table top 'partial' rickshaw (we
unknowingly
sold the second piece of it separately--OOPS). "What in the
hell is
this?" he asks.
"It's a 'thing' with wheels," we tell him.
"The wheels don't move!" he says.
"Then you don't have to worry about it going anywhere. Buy
it."
OK, so we aren't the FIRST in Customer Service...
Kate developed a wonderful pricing system. Pick a number and, if
the
potential customer didn't have a heart attack, that was the
price. For
the most part it worked well.
For you Bastards with a kilt fetish, we had a Scotsman stop by
sporting
knee socks but sans the kilt. In hopes he would cave to our
Orphaned
Puppy Dog Eyes look and actually buy something, we pretended to
be
interested in his tales of yard sale bargains, including getting
over
400 feet of anchor chain for a mere two cents a foot. We couldn't
even
offer the aforementioned jump rope at that point. No sale.
Near the end, Charles was waving cars down and demanding they
stop and
buy SOMETHING. This worked with marginal success. Only one car
increased speed. The look of terror on the inhabitants faces were
most
apparent. Serves 'em right... the cheapskates. When anyone would
approach our YardMart™ Charles would inform them they had
to buy
something because we were very sensitive and didn't handle
rejection
well. He also conned a woman into buying a whole box of sewing
magazines
then, after carrying them to her waiting car, he bullied
her into giving him a quarter tip.
The things Bastards will do - we're such sluts for open records.
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