Yard Sale-ing - Not to be Confused with Yard Sailing, Of Course

Yesterday morning, the joke was on my bodyclock. I had to push myself out of bed at 5 AM, a time I wasn't even sure registered on my alarm clock, all in the name of a yard sale. A week ago, I convinced my parents to have a yard sale before they move. My dad's original plan was just to give away all of their belongings that they wouldn't be able to fit into the new place. He had been offering everything he could think of, large and small, to anyone he came in contact with, and I thought he could make a profit instead. (He can thank himself for that aspect of my personality.) So, when I said I would help, he gave in. What had I gotten myself into? The things we do for our families...

I bumbled blindly through a shower and headed to the big event. It was 6:30 AM when I arrived at the spectacle. My dad and his mother were sitting on the front lawn amidst what appeared to be my childhood home's vomit. Seriously, I think there were a few photographs of me for sale in that mess. The mess was, however, arranged neatly on tables, the ground, and across makeshift clotheslines. The meager boxes I had donated to the cause the night before were minuscule in the mounds of things my dad decided to sell. I mean, I guess I can't blame him, though. What, exactly, were they going to do with 3 leafblowers, 2 decorative, wall-hanging brooms, 7 coolers, about 10 broken fishing poles, my grandmother's abandoned sconces (Look it up if you're not sure what these are. We had at least a dozen if you're a fan of medieval-style, so I'm sorry if you missed the boat on that one.), and a plethora of gaudy gold, Home Interior items? Many of the things for sale, I hadn't even seen since I was a child. They had spent recent years hiding in my parents' basement.

Our yard sale progressed quite merrily, with the three of us doing our respective parts. My grandmother nitpicked about prices, floor displays, and which items were too ridiculous to sell. I, of course, ignored her and tried to coach my dad into pushing the prices up. My dad, in turn, just gave things away as usual. As in, you bought a teddy bear for twenty-five cents? Great, take this working VCR as a complimentary gift! All in all, he made a good profit, though. I still wouldn't say I had a blast. Perhaps, I have not acclimated to the culture of yard sale-ing. Either way, I have compiled my second top ten list, a tribute to all things despicable:

Top 10 Reasons I Dislike A Good Yard Sale

10. If I'm trying to interest you in purchasing my old junk, that is not an indication I'm looking for new friends. Keep movin', buddy.
9. Putting a price on old memories is impossible. Too low, and I feel like I'm selling my soul. Too high, and I'm stuck storing that old memory in a plastic tub until the next go-round.
8. I don't like the social pressure of haggling over prices. If I ask you what you'll give me for something, it's just because it's unacceptable to discuss money in our culture.
7. It is unacceptable to wear a bikini to a yard sale, thus I always end up with less-than-sexy farmer's tans.
6. People who insist on personal demonstrations of items for sale. I expect a tip if I have to drag out an extension cord and run through my yard amongst my other customers, proving that the leaf blower actually works.
5. People who mutter under their breath about the cost or quality of the items for sale. This is not a department store. I do not run blue-light specials like the local Wally World. Therefore, I am not interested in hearing one more old lady say "Oh that's nice, but eveything's TOO HIGH here."
4. The way neighbors, young and old, feel the need to mosey over, buy my stuff and relocate it 30 feet from me. If I want to get rid of it, I probably am not hoping to look at it on your front porch for the next year.
3. Drive-by's. This is the serious but picky, yard sale-er who rolls by slowly in his/her pick-up truck or rusted out, child-molester van, snarls her nose, and proceeds to speed away. THIS yard sale is not up to her standards.
2. Clean up. I didn't want all this crappy stuff in the first place. I certainly am not going to enjoy loading the leftovers up and dropping them off at the local Goodwill in the summer heat. Perhaps I could start throwing all remaining items in free with the last purchase of the day...
1. Other yard sales. I prefer to run a monopoly in the thriving yard sale-ing field. Please don't place your signs on top of mine, or in brighter colors. Don't put your announcements on my street's corner when that territory is clearly taken, and DON'T, by any means, bee-bop over to "visit" and comment "Wow. You have alot of clothes. Our yard sale is more tools and furniture."
This is NOT, I repeat NOT, a profession. Who cares if you've accumulated more stuff?!?