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
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
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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