The day before my garage sale, there was a knock at my door around 8:30 a.m. And there, in the middle of the obvious chaos of getting ready for a garage sale, was a man asking if I was having a garage sale.
Well, yeah, buddy, I thought, but that would be tomorrow, on Saturday, like it said in the ad that you saw in the newspaper.
He apologized and said he thought it was today. (Isn’t that the oldest early-bird excuse in the book?)
And so, that was how my latest adventure into hosting a garage sale began. No wonder every time that I do this that I swear I will never do it again.
But, I do, and in the end, it was all good. I sold the strange man in the garage two $1 items, and a little more than 24 hours later, at the end of the real garage sale, I ended up making enough money to justify spending more than a week getting ready for the sale.
And I came out ahead on a little gamble that I took.
That occurred on the eve of the garage sale, when at a church rummage sale, I found a vintage typewriter. Just what was I doing the night before my garage sale at a church rummage sale? Let’s just say that my junking radar is always on, which is probably why when I picked up a case that I thought held a bowling ball that there was actually a vintage typewriter inside.
But as much as I love vintage typewriters, I am tormented by vintage typewriters. I can never decide if they are worth the trouble. Being a journalist, I love their romance and retro-ness, but the reality is that I really don’t need them and I’ve never had much luck selling them.
But this one made me let go of any common sense that I had. It was an Hermes 3000, manufactured in Switzerland, and was probably from the late 1950s or early 1960s. For nearly an hour, as I looked for other treasures at what was otherwise a pretty crappy sale, I lugged that typewriter around and debated if I should buy it or not.
On the plus side, it was gray with keys of seafoam green. On the minus side, the "u" key was stuck, but still typed. And did I mention that it weighed at least 20 pounds?
Finally, I gave in, reasoning that maybe I might be able to make a quick buck and sell it the next day at my garage sale.
And happily, I did.
And what about the rest of my treasures? One-third, I sold to other people who have booths in antique stores or shops on Etsy. Another third, I packed up and took to the thrift store. The final third? I have to confess that I brought that back into my basement (sorry, Mr. VS) because most haven't been listed yet in my Etsy shop.
What sold? A little bit of everything, but mostly holiday items, greeting cards and some linens. By the way, I still have the metal 1940s dollhouse that everyone admired but nobody bought. I’ll probably put it on Craigslist right before Christmas. By then, I’ll be hoping that there’s some strange man in my garage wanting to buy it.
P.S. Is vintage typewriter an oxymoron, considering no one makes a typewriter anymore? Discuss please.