Garage Sale! : Neighbors Share a Profitable, Enjoyable Weekend Event
The small handmade signs catch the eye: “Garage Sale,” “Yard Sale” they say, with bright arrows pointing the way. Garages and yards are not for sale, of course, but hundreds of small treasures, a myriad of medium-sized goodies and dozens of large items are usually on the block.
A “small” is a silk handkerchief bought at a tourist resort and never used; a “large” may be a chair that is suddenly out of place in one living room, potentially perfect in another; a “medium” might be a grandchild’s outgrown car seat to a portable TV, too heavy for arthritic hands to carry from room to room. New ownership can mean new life for all of them.
In the San Marcos development of 47 families, mostly retired, where I live, we decided to hold a neighborhood garage sale last month. Individually--and, as it turned out, collectively--we were tired of bumping into piled-up boxes and unused furniture, of seeing old magazines and nearly new gadgets and doodads that filled the corners and were stacked to the ceilings of our garages. The results of impulsive shopping and compulsive saving were, suddenly, in everybody’s way.
For my husband and me, it was time to make room for our grandson’s scooter and workbench and to provide more room to walk around the car. Our neighbor was thinking baby stroller and high chair, frantically wondering where to put her expected grandbaby’s things. Others, planning to move and in the process of weeding out, were delighted with the opportunity to discard the unused.
The accumulation of years can hamper movement, destroy order. Although donating items to charity is also an excellent way to say goodby to unneeded items, this time the marketplace of a garage sale and its attendant socializing seemed ideal.
Working with the approval of the Homeowners’ Association, a date was set and plans laid for our two-day neighborhood sale.
There are no dependable expectations at a garage sale.
Even the starting time can hold a surprise. A printer’s error in our newspaper advertisement noted that we would all be open for business at 8 a.m. rather than our agreed-upon hour of 9, so our streets were crowded long before our opening. And, of course, the early birds were driving by at 7.
At the last moment, an emergency in our family made it impossible for us to open our “store.” In the spirit of friendship, our neighbor on the right included our merchandise with her own. I learned later that our neighbor on the left had included the merchandise of two other families who were unable to hold their own sales.
On one street, the secondhand clothing that swayed on hangers proved to be most appealing; on the next street, buyers preferred rummaging through the piles of recycled shirts and shorts that rested on the ground, ignoring the neatly hanging clothes.
Almost-new golf balls were popular bargains. These were the balls that had ended up on our course-close properties during the prior five years, the results of devilish hooks or just poorly stroked drives. Some of us had collected these balls with the mischievous hope that they might one day be sold back to the offending golfer.
For the prospective buyer at a garage sale, there is always the hope that a real bargain--something particularly valuable or desired--will turn up. The woman who entered our neighbor’s garage and immediately spotted two silk scarves from Japan, unused and in their original boxes, knew that she had a “find.” She knotted and draped one scarf artfully around herself, purchased both for $2 less than the asking price, and walked away thrilled with her buy.
That thrill of a special purchase--for both buyer and seller--is the very best part of a garage sale. It is like a gift that suddenly pops out of a dusty old box, begging to be taken home. It is always fun to witness one person’s trash becoming another person’s treasure.
Old magazines and books are magnetic for many who attend garage sales. The young man who pored over a stack of publications, trying to select the ones he really wanted at 10 cents apiece, accepted the seller’s offer of “the whole stack for $2” and danced away with glee. He had struck it rich.
Bargaining is de rigueur at garage sales. Sellers, as a rule, cannot expect to receive a large sum for any one item, since few who attend expect to spend a lot. Based on that fact, we filled a box with small items and called it our “Make an Offer” box. The box came home empty.
According to the reports of our neighbors, many who attended the sale seemed eager to meet and chat with the sellers. Others drove by and continued on their way or got out of the car for a brief moment, then left. But there also was the group that lingered, browsing and chatting from garage to garage. Their presence added special color to the sellers’ day, for there are many dull hours in a two-day sale.
Many bargain hunters follow the sales, driving from one to the other, searching for specific items or a pleasant way to spend the day.
Thankfully, there are few municipal regulations attached to garage sales. The City of San Marcos simply requests that signs come down at the end of the sale. Escondido states “three sales a year, per family; more than that is frowned upon.” That city’s business office responds to complaints; there are few. Oceanside says “two a year.” The City of Encinitas has no restrictions. The code enforcement person in Del Mar notes that there is a sign ordinance, making it illegal to place a sign on the public right of way.
Perhaps garage and yard sales are the last free enterprise, small businesses around. Unregulated, barely codified, the weekend sales provide a cleansing for some, a storehouse of new goodies for others. For many of us of the “Shades of Gray” generation, a garage sale is an entertaining way to remove our accumulated but unused possessions.
When done as part of a group, it’s also a way to get to know the neighbors better. There is the opportunity to work together to plan it, share the experience itself, and later celebrate the deals made--and bemoan the ones that got away.
