After seeing this article about hoarding in the New York Times, we were spurred into action and decided to clean out our garage. Rather than have another garage sale, I decided to list a lot of my vintage items on Craigslist, starting with the furniture. Here are some shots of the loot...
I know that Craigslist is a headache but I surmised that a garage sale is a bigger headache, and we're still having weather in the upper 90's each day, so it would be a hot headache. It's one week later and I've only sold the lot of red diner chairs ($40 for 6). I've had about 30 conversations with folks, via email and phone, about the items, about their work schedules, about where they live, about directions to my house, about the reasons why they missed their appointments with me to come and view the items, about their kids soccer game schedules, and about their conflicts with significant others over whether or not to purchase the item. Does this sound familiar or is it just me?
I've learned form these prospective buyers lots of interesting anecdotes that I hadn't previously considered:
1. Building a home with your spouse can lead to marital problems.
2. Diverticulitis CAN put you in the intensive care unit.
3. Round Rock and Georgetown got an average of 8-10 more inches of rain from Hurricane Hermine than Central/East Austin did.
Upon reflection, I realize now that many who I have corresponded with had no real intention of purchasing the item, they just wanted to CHAT about the item(s). They were interested in the history of the item. They wanted me to know they used to have a similar item in the home where they were growing up. They wanted me to know that the item was underpriced or overpriced. They wanted me to go out into the garage and MEASURE the item because they thought I needed practice with a tape measure.
I am not complaining, ya'll. I'm a pretty good sport. This is like a modern, sociological phenomenon. My husband walked in on me last night and eavesdropped on the tail end of a conversation with a prospective buyer.
Husband: "Who were you talking to?"
Me: "A lady interested in the red/orange chairs."
Husband: "Why were you saying "Bless her heart?"
Me: "Well, because her daughter has re-injured her knee from playing volleyball and she's laid up in bed."
Husband (with incredulous look on face): "Well, God Bless America!"