The Challange

A dinner conversation a few nights ago got onto of all topics, garage sales. I am neither for nor against the concept of the garage sale. My mother on the other hand…don’t get me started. Girl can work a garage sale like nobody’s business. She buys the “stuff” and turns it for a profit, and does so sans E-Bay. (That she has just learned how to dial out on her cell phone, we will not be introducing computer technology to her at this time...)

My dear family seems to think our basement is in need of a garage sale. The challenge? If I don’t have a job by May, I am to organize the mother-a** of all garage sales. And not only would said garage sale include our stuff, but we would invite relatives and neighbors to partake as well. Gee, I can’t think of any better way to spend my time than organizing a garage sale for our junk AND the junk of our beloved friends and family! Do you think I should maybe focus on, say, …finding a job??!!

I am not a collector of stuff. If an item is not of use to me I find a way to get it out of my house. I have gone to great lengths to rid my life of "stuff". Clutter makes me mental. Ok, more mental… So, what is it that is cluttering our basement? Again, I do not have items I do not want; therefore, the clutter in the basement must belong to other people who live here.

A chance to get rid of “stuff”? Hmmm…sounds like a win/win. And bonus, there are many skills I might acquire that could be resume worthy:

"Organized crap into appealing piles"

"Generated Revenue of $43.51" (this after spending 3 days organizing and 2 days sitting in my garage? Now who’s the lucky SOB?!)

"Negotiation Skills"– “No I will NOT take 20 cents for that, I said 25 cents firm dammit!!”

"Customer Service Skills" – “Let me carry this to your car for you before you change your mind…”

GAME ON!!

Our first item up for bids: DOGS PLAYING CARDS

This tapestry eye-sore and I were first introduced in June 1996, as I observed it prominently displayed in the living room of Dan’s Burnsville apartment. (Yes, you read right, the living room). When Dan moved, it moved with him (kinda like that odor I can't get out of my gym shorts...) First to Hopkins, then to Worthington. Its prominence however was banned to the bedroom on these subsequent moves, not that I uh, er…never mind.

When we set down roots at our first house together in Savage, “The Hounds” came along of course. Being a new bride, I was sure that if I said I didn’t want said hounds in my new house that I could just give the ring back and he would ceremoniously carry the tapestry across the threshold instead of me. Since I bought the house without him ever even looking at it, I suppose I owed him that much.

Thankfully The Hounds only ever hung in the garage. Every morning getting into my car, I looked at those dogs…that bulldog, the trump card in his paw he was hiding under the table…mocking me...so smug they were with their cigars, probably talking trash...

On what would be our final move to date, to Shakopee, those poker playing pooches quietly made their way to the basement and are currently folded up in a heap of ..."stuff".

Garage Sale? Perhaps we shall “Let sleeping dogs lie”

Dan needn’t worry. I’ll have a job by May...

You want fries with that?

;-)