![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Yard Sale, Yard Tale, Yard Holy Grail
Apr. 7th, 2004 11:30 amThe village at Stone Mountain has this mass garage sale annually that dictates if you live in the immediate area you can sign up to be located on a map. The map tells hapless bargain hunters how to find your lawn so you can shill bad romance novels, groovy luggage or those creepy dolls from the seventies whose hair "grew" if you yanked on it.
Tre has a huge expanse of lawn - perfect for shilling, so she invited all of us to come for the afternoon and try to make some cash off of our unwanted crap.
Paul and I had an appointment so we got there mid afternoon and found out we had just missed the Mayor, who apparently likes to hang out at his constituents garage sales. He gave Tre the inside scoop on the rundown bungalow directly across the one-way street from her. It was going to be razed to the ground within the next thirty days. I asked casually if there was anything good in there and Tre answered that she had been on the porch and opened the front door, but hadn't gone in.
While I sat with everyone else on the grass having friendly conversation, I struggled to beat back my encroaching elementary school pride and curiosity. No one had dared me to go in, I didn't need to prove anything. The old woman had been dead for at least three years at this point. Even if there was something good in there, it was probably long gone by now I convinced myself weakly.
( Finally, the strain became more than I could bear. )
Tre has a huge expanse of lawn - perfect for shilling, so she invited all of us to come for the afternoon and try to make some cash off of our unwanted crap.
Paul and I had an appointment so we got there mid afternoon and found out we had just missed the Mayor, who apparently likes to hang out at his constituents garage sales. He gave Tre the inside scoop on the rundown bungalow directly across the one-way street from her. It was going to be razed to the ground within the next thirty days. I asked casually if there was anything good in there and Tre answered that she had been on the porch and opened the front door, but hadn't gone in.
While I sat with everyone else on the grass having friendly conversation, I struggled to beat back my encroaching elementary school pride and curiosity. No one had dared me to go in, I didn't need to prove anything. The old woman had been dead for at least three years at this point. Even if there was something good in there, it was probably long gone by now I convinced myself weakly.
( Finally, the strain became more than I could bear. )
