The Garage Sale Customer From Hell

A couple weeks ago we had our first garage sale. Thanks to a lot of help from a few of my girlfriends (who have now been rewarded handsomely for their efforts with BLOG LINKS!), the sale was a big success and more fun than a root canal.

But there was a moment or two when I feared we might all end up goat food.

I had been told that the people watching at the sale would be “interesting”. As someone who has frequented garage sales as a customer in the past, I was mildly insulted by these warnings and assured myself that neither old people nor people who don’t wear makeup on a Saturday morning qualify as “interesting” in my book. Of course, I’m writing this post because old people and frugal housewives were absolutely the least interesting people I met that day. Of particular note was the man who had called the night before to inquire about my dining room set.

I sensed something was off when he made me give him turn by turn directions to my house three times and then asked me for my phone number – even though he’d been the one to call me at the number I’d listed in an ad. When he asked if anyone would be around in the morning to help with lifting, I assured him that “at least two really big guys are at my house at all times.” You know, just in case there’s ever a need for heavy lifting or protection from crazy Craigslist people. I also told him I’d be having a garage sale the next day so he could just come in the morning at any time.

He called two more times the next day to tell me he was on his way. And then that he was late. And then that he had a vet appointment later. And then OH MY GOD, DUDE, DO NOT CARE. BUSY HERE. JUST SHOW UP WITH MONEY OR DON’T.

*ahem*

Anyway, dude eventually showed up.

And started looking around.

And looking.

And looking.

And looking.

About two hours later he had accumulated a small mountain of items in the corner of my garage, decided to purchase my dining room set and entertainment center, asked if we could dismantle the clothing rack so he could buy the ladder it was on, and informed us that he had “several cats” waiting at home for him.

He then asked if one of us could give him a ride to a nearby ATM.

Obviously, I offered up my husband as chauffeur. (Listen, the dude seemed a little odd but he was definitely older and less in shape than my husband. And he was going to give me about $1,000. Jared could totally take him. Probably. A THOUSAND DOLLARS.)

Jared agreed to shuttle our potential customer to the ATM and asked us to come looking for him if he wasn’t back in 20 minutes.

Twenty minutes later – or two and a half hours after he originally arrived at my house – the stranger returned with my husband and my money. I counted out my profits and gave my friendliest, “Thank you! Come again! But not really that second part!”

“What time is it?” he asked.

“11:30,” I said.

“Ohhhhhh…. nooooo….”

“Yeah, I know, you’ve been here a while. But now you’re all done and -”

“I have a vet appointment.”

“OK….”

He got on his cell phone, called his vet, and explained that he would needed to bring his chicken in because of a broken leg, but would be a few minutes late. He hung up the phone and asked me if he could leave his trailer parked in front of my house while he took his chicken to the vet.

I looked at the trailer.

I looked at the very strange man.

I looked at the thousandish dollars sitting in my till.

“Sure! No problem! Just make sure you don’t leave it overnight!”

Jared came outside just as the strange man was driving away.

“Uh… did he leave his trailer? Why didn’t he take the furniture with him?”

I explained the chicken emergency.

“You realize that trailer is full of dead hookers and we just accepted $1,000 as payment for disposing of the bodies.”

“Probably, yes.”

We should have been so lucky.

Instead, our dear customer did return – and this time he had help: a very elderly man in a Chrysler Town and Country. By this time the garage sale had officially ended and all we wanted to do was get the last of the items out of the house, find some food, and be done for the day. And yet… no.

a) Very elderly man needed to use the restroom. Very elderly man took approximately 15 minutes to get from the front of my house to the restroom. And another 15 minutes to get back.

b) Jared had to disassemble the dining room set in order to fit it into the trailer – which, by the way, had “just had goats in it.”

c) OH MY GOD THE CHIT CHATTING

d) Do you guys have my number?

About four hours after showing up at my house – and a full hour after the sale had actually ended – the garage sale customer from hell finally left.

I may have changed the locks that afternoon.