|I've started selling my yard sale stuff at the flea market lately. I seem to enjoy it better than having a sale at my house. I guess it's easier in some way. I've met all sorts of interesting folks and I told you about some of them in Sharing a Tailgate a while back.
Flea marketing is a lot of fun, and some days, you can make some cold hard cash. It depends on what you got to sell and if somebody wants it. Trust me, people will buy anything.
If you've been visiting for a while you know that I like to tell you about the seens that I have seen from various places. Yes, I spell it that way on purpose. No, I ain't ignorant. I just like to and it's my blog so I'll do what I want to. (I'm not sure if C Smith 202, Mrs. Russell and Mrs. Rosselot are reading, but you never know. Those were my high school and college grammar teachers and they really did learn me good.)
So, back to the flea market. It was during a slow period and this fella, late 5Os, unshaven, pop bottle glasses with a John Deere cap perched on his head wandered by the table and gave me a nod. "How ya doin'?" I asked.
"Fine," he muttered. He was looking over my table and I noticed that he was mumbling to himself. The only thing that I could really understand was the word shit.
"What'd ya say?"
"I said nobody gives a shit anyway, so why tell'em how you feel."
I thought that was so funny that I started laughing and found myself agreeing with him. I told him I was a good listener and would be happy to listen to how he really felt.
He was silent for a moment, touched the brim of his cap and said this to me. "Ma'am I really was feeling poorly, but you perked me up. Thanks for asking about me, whether you meant it or not, I sure do appreciate it."
I guess the moral of this story is be careful what you ask. One day they might really tell you how they feel and you might just make somebody's day.