Church Yard Sale
Now that my home church has a beautiful multi-purpose building, we try to use it for everything. A die-hard flea marketer suggested hosting periodic flea markets in the gymnasium; today was the fourth such event, and with each one, everyone gets a little shrewder about how to buy and sell effectively.
I like to people watch. I find it intriguing to see what people buy, but even more so, what they reject. For example, the first thing that caught me eye was a set of Ronald McDonald resin plates from the early 80’s. It was a “collect all four” deal from when I was a child, and just seeing those cartoon plates brought back so many memories of family meals around our old cramped kitchen table; I wanted to buy them instantly. I told myself no, but of all the nice home décor, furniture, clothing, and jewelry that was on display today, those plates were the most desirable thing to me.
What motivates everyone else? I watch people shuffle past my table, their eyes darting by in a quick once-over. There comes a flash of disappointment in their eyes, something so quick I can’t define it, but in that split second, I know they’ve thought, “Nothing good here.” They don’t actually sneer or scoff, but I know this look. I’ve done it myself at other yard sales. My nose wrinkles over so slightly as I realize, “Ahh, it’s just junk.”
What amazes me, though, is that these same people will light up at the next table, when they see a ceramic statuette of a horse lying down. Not a horse standing, mind you, in its artistic glory—a horse lying down! It’s only a dollar, and they exclaim over it, call their aged mother over to see it, examine the detailing, and congratulate themselves on the “deal-of-the-day.” It’s only a knick-knack, but you’d think they’d found the Holy Grail.
I’ve come to view the crowds as the following stereotypes:
• “Miss Green Jean” – Recycle is her middle name. Everything she sees has possibilities for reuse somewhere. With some cleaning, she can even give all these knick-knacks as birthday gifts to everyone she knows. She can find multiple uses for an ordinary bowl: a mail gatherer perfect for that table in her foyer; a fruit bowl for the kitchen counter; a centerpiece for the coffee table (Is anyone here selling floating candles or silk flowers? I’ll use those!). She gathers objects like a farmer bringing in the wheat crop—no corner gets overlooked.
• “Mr. Investment Banker” – His motto: Buy low, sell high. He’s only looking for pieces that will return a 600% profit. He does ebay or owns a local store, specializing in rare books, toys, trains, stamps, coins, collectibles, and more. He knows that the seller (poor sap) has no idea of the true value of his Great-Aunt Myrtle’s teapot, and he’s more than willing to spend a quarter on this hidden gold mine. Flea market—Ha, more like “bull” market for this sharp-eyed shopper.
• “Mr. and Mrs. Vulture”— You can always spot these people, because they circle the tables at the end. Just as you’re ready to pack up and call it a day, they appear, beedy eyes gleaming for the kill. They’ve already seen the goods, but now that you’re exhausted, they’ll pick over the bones. “You want $35 for that armchair? Will you take two bucks?” You don’t want to load all this heavy stuff back in your car, and they know it. Can you summon up the will to fight them off, or do you give up in desperation?
• “Mr. Touchy-Feeler”—He has never heard that old saw “Look with your eyes, not with your hands.” He likes to touch everything on the table, holding up the clothes to judge size, flicking through every video in your collection. He checks the flyleaf of each title in your yard sale library, and inspects the wear-and-tear. That old camera you’re selling has to be focused, batteries checked, a few snaps of the button, the lens changed—all while you agonize that he might drop it, break it, and walk away. Here’s the kicker: he’s going to walk away anyway! He doesn’t actually want to buy your stuff; he just wants to play with it all, ask you twelve questions, raise your hopes about selling your stuff, and then go rifle through someone else’s stuff.
Naturally, there are discerning people who search responsibly for things they need, would actually use, and maybe impulse buy a few items for dollar or two here and there. But at a flea market, a “rational shopper” is like “quality junk”: both oxymorons, and both almost impossible to find!
I like to people watch. I find it intriguing to see what people buy, but even more so, what they reject. For example, the first thing that caught me eye was a set of Ronald McDonald resin plates from the early 80’s. It was a “collect all four” deal from when I was a child, and just seeing those cartoon plates brought back so many memories of family meals around our old cramped kitchen table; I wanted to buy them instantly. I told myself no, but of all the nice home décor, furniture, clothing, and jewelry that was on display today, those plates were the most desirable thing to me.
What motivates everyone else? I watch people shuffle past my table, their eyes darting by in a quick once-over. There comes a flash of disappointment in their eyes, something so quick I can’t define it, but in that split second, I know they’ve thought, “Nothing good here.” They don’t actually sneer or scoff, but I know this look. I’ve done it myself at other yard sales. My nose wrinkles over so slightly as I realize, “Ahh, it’s just junk.”
What amazes me, though, is that these same people will light up at the next table, when they see a ceramic statuette of a horse lying down. Not a horse standing, mind you, in its artistic glory—a horse lying down! It’s only a dollar, and they exclaim over it, call their aged mother over to see it, examine the detailing, and congratulate themselves on the “deal-of-the-day.” It’s only a knick-knack, but you’d think they’d found the Holy Grail.
I’ve come to view the crowds as the following stereotypes:
• “Miss Green Jean” – Recycle is her middle name. Everything she sees has possibilities for reuse somewhere. With some cleaning, she can even give all these knick-knacks as birthday gifts to everyone she knows. She can find multiple uses for an ordinary bowl: a mail gatherer perfect for that table in her foyer; a fruit bowl for the kitchen counter; a centerpiece for the coffee table (Is anyone here selling floating candles or silk flowers? I’ll use those!). She gathers objects like a farmer bringing in the wheat crop—no corner gets overlooked.
• “Mr. Investment Banker” – His motto: Buy low, sell high. He’s only looking for pieces that will return a 600% profit. He does ebay or owns a local store, specializing in rare books, toys, trains, stamps, coins, collectibles, and more. He knows that the seller (poor sap) has no idea of the true value of his Great-Aunt Myrtle’s teapot, and he’s more than willing to spend a quarter on this hidden gold mine. Flea market—Ha, more like “bull” market for this sharp-eyed shopper.
• “Mr. and Mrs. Vulture”— You can always spot these people, because they circle the tables at the end. Just as you’re ready to pack up and call it a day, they appear, beedy eyes gleaming for the kill. They’ve already seen the goods, but now that you’re exhausted, they’ll pick over the bones. “You want $35 for that armchair? Will you take two bucks?” You don’t want to load all this heavy stuff back in your car, and they know it. Can you summon up the will to fight them off, or do you give up in desperation?
• “Mr. Touchy-Feeler”—He has never heard that old saw “Look with your eyes, not with your hands.” He likes to touch everything on the table, holding up the clothes to judge size, flicking through every video in your collection. He checks the flyleaf of each title in your yard sale library, and inspects the wear-and-tear. That old camera you’re selling has to be focused, batteries checked, a few snaps of the button, the lens changed—all while you agonize that he might drop it, break it, and walk away. Here’s the kicker: he’s going to walk away anyway! He doesn’t actually want to buy your stuff; he just wants to play with it all, ask you twelve questions, raise your hopes about selling your stuff, and then go rifle through someone else’s stuff.
Naturally, there are discerning people who search responsibly for things they need, would actually use, and maybe impulse buy a few items for dollar or two here and there. But at a flea market, a “rational shopper” is like “quality junk”: both oxymorons, and both almost impossible to find!