A Buyer’s Guide to Winning the Garage Sale Wars

 

 

Fellow citizens.

All this stuff you hear about Americans not wanting to go to garage sales, preferring to stay at home, is a lot of bullshit.

Fact is, we love garage sales.  All real Americans love the sting and clash of getting a bargain.  We love the art of the hustle.

 

When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ballplayer, and the toughest boxer.  Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser.  Americans play to win all the time.  That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war — except for Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq.  The very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.  Even shameful.

Garage sales are the most significant battle in which we can indulge.  It brings out what is best in us.

But fighting isn’t easy.  Every person who heads off to his first garage sale is frightened.  If he says he’s not, he’s a goddamned liar.  The real hero is the buyer who stands and fights.  He plays hardball while driving his bargain, even though he’s scared.  Some buyers will get over their fear of the seller quickly.  For some, it takes longer, perhaps even days.  But the real buyer never lets his fear overpower his honor.  The real man honors that sense of duty to an insatiable desire to pluck a Saturday morning bargain from a poor unsuspecting victim.  You want those golf clubs he’s asking 75 bucks for?  Offer him $40 and watch him squirm.

Sure, we all want to go home.  We want to get this goddamned garage sale war over with.  But you can’t win a war lying down.  The quickest way to win is to get the bastards who started it all, those greedy pricks who put up the signs.  We want to get the hell over there and clean their out garages completely.  The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home with their stuff.  The shortest way home is through the front yard and then straight to the garage.  So, keep it moving.  And when we get to the nest of the garage sale high command who started all this, I’m personally going to lowball that cheap son-of-a-bitch myself.

Some of you are wondering whether or not you’ll chicken out under fire.  Don’t worry about it.  I can assure you that you’ll all do your duty.  The garage war is a bloody undertaking, a killing business.  Sellers are the enemy.  Wade into them.  Spill their blood, or they will spill yours.  Shoot them in the guts with a lowball offer.  Rip open their bellies by asking 2 paperbacks for the price of 1.  When counter offers are hitting all around and you wipe the sweat from your face and you realize that it’s not sweat, but saliva expectorated from the seller, you’ll know what to do.

I don’t want to see any tweets, “I’m holding my position.”  We’re not holding a goddamned thing.  We’re advancing constantly and we’re not interested in holding anything except the enemy’s balls and then getting out the door with his stuff.  We’re going to hold him by his balls and we’re going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time.  Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing.  We’re going to go through the enemy like crap through a goose.

All right, you sons of bitches.  You know how I feel.  I’ll be proud to lead you wonderful Americans to a garage sale anytime, anywhere.

That’s all.  Dismissed.

*     *     *     *     *

This past Saturday morning, Marieta and I embarked upon the great American treasure hunt.  I’m talking about garage sales.

We hear crazy tales all the time of a Renoir being sold at a yard sale for $5 bucks, then later fetching $15 million at Sotheby’s.  We see instances on Antiques Roadshow of a beat-up dresser plucked from a storage unit being worth tens of thousands of dollars.  There was even a story of an original copy of the Declaration of Independence being found somewhere hidden inside the frame of a $20 print of Elvis.

We’re all dreamers.  We’d all like to find the rare priceless artifact.  We’d love to pull one over the elderly grandmother cleaning out her garage who has no idea she’s selling a pristine Stradivarius for peanuts.

Fuck the enemy.  A garage sale means war.

Trouble is, victories like those are rare.  Most of the time, we end up buying junk.  The shit we buy at someone else’s garage sales ends up — you guessed it — at our own garage sale six months later.  We just hope we can get half of what we paid.

As I said, it’s war.

Here are some guidelines for those who host garage sales:

1.  Ask for reasonable prices — You’re not Neiman-Marcus.  Last I checked, you didn’t offer valet parking out front of your house.  So, stop being ridiculous by asking close to what you paid for the item.  I don’t give a shit if that lamp costs you $150 brand new.  That was in 1971.  As far as I’m concerned, it’s now a dusty piece of junk worth about a dollar, and that’s assuming it’s working.  On second thought, maybe you should pay me a buck to haul it away.  I’m here to rob you.  Not pay you what you want.

2.  Identify yourself quickly — If there are multiple people browsing, greet me.  Identify yourself.  Say hello.  I want to know who’s going to be my target.  The last thing I want to do is spend three minutes charming the lady next to me, only to find out she’s nothing but a fellow scavenger.  Make it clear that you think you’re in charge.

3.  Save the sad speech for someone else — I know every item in your sale is truly special to you.  That hairdryer with a short circuit you’re trying to pin on some sucker for two bucks was the same model you used while dating your third husband.  Such fond memories.  Fact is, I can get anything on the table for a few dollars more at Target.  So, lower the price and quit shoveling my bullshit.  If the item was really sentimental, you wouldn’t have let it sit in the garage for 23 years and now want to sell it to a stranger.

4.  Quit watching me and following me around — I’m not John Dillinger.  I’m not going to pillowcase all your shit and haul it away at gunpoint.  It’s not worth it to me.  What I want to do is browse.  Perhaps if you’re lucky, something will catch my eye.  Then, you’ll make a sale.  I don’t want to be watched or followed and if you badger me, I’ll leave and then rip down all your signs.

5.  Don’t assume you know my likes and needs — From the bin of country-western albums now priced at 50 cents, I can tell you’re a big fan of Pat Boone.  Unfortunately, I just don’t see listening to him as part of my future.  And quit trying to push boxed puzzles on me.  Do I look like the kind of person who would sit around and try to work on a fucking puzzle?

6.  Label sale items with price tags — Tag as many items as you can.  Better yet, clear a space on a table and post a sign saying “EVERYTHING $1.”  It’s annoying to keep asking you over and over again, “how much is this?” 

7.  Have proper change handy — Here’s a hint.  If you’re running a garage sale, start the day with plenty of singles.  Even some quarters.  Don’t give me that shit saying you got hit with three 20s when you first opened up, and now you’re busted on change.  I’m not going to buy an extra $2.50 worth of shit, just because you’re bad at banking.

8.  Make sure your signage gives proper directions — There’s nothing more aggravating than seeing a garage sale sign, and then trying to figure out which direction the arrow is pointing.  You’re selling junk, not hosting an Easter egg hunt.  I mean, how difficult is it to write “GARAGE SALE — SATURDAY — 8 AM-2 PM” and stick it on a street corner along with an arrow as to which way to go?  I’ll give you one chance and if the directions suck, I’ll bolt.  But first, I might rip up your sign for wasting 7 minutes of my time.

9.  Remove your signs after the sale ends — Unfortunately, many garage sale goons are too lazy to take down the signs after the day is done.  So, they get left outside next to all the political signs that no one pays any attention to.  Problem is, it’s a major eyesore.  I think people who leave up garage sale signs should be imprisoned and tortured, along with the people who post signs for Herbalife and getting my entire house carpeting cleaned for $30, which always turns out to be a lie.

10.  ??? — Your turn.  What did I miss?

A Final Note:  Believe it or not, Marieta holds garage sales.  I tend to sleep late on those mornings.  Come to think of it, I sleep late every morning.  She’s pretty good at garage sales, too.  In a future column, I’ll write a list of helpful hints for sellers on how to ensnare buying customers, how to weed out cheapskates and deadbeats and squeeze the maximum out of everyone who steps onto your property.