During the BecsFest weekend, it was the Garage Sale Weekend of All Weekends. The weather was perfect. People didn't want to throw away any of their summer stuff or the crap they'd been meaning to dump all summer, so they tried to sell it.
Cousin Karen is ever determined on her course to build a Tiny House. She talked about it a lot while she was here and bemoaned the fact that she can't think of a way to get a free trailer hauled to her big back yard. Having lived in Jersey for long enough, I realize that most things can be accomplished if the right sum of money is offered. I said, "Find someone with a trailer hitch on his truck and pay him twenty bucks for hauling it to your yard. And if that trailer is gone, check out the junk yards."
Karen and I were out one morning and passed a garage sale. I noticed a large-ish wood burning stove or coal furnace, the kind my great grandma had in her house and next to it was what looked like an old Electrolux canister vac standing upright. Karen squealed. I pulled over.
"All right," I said. "What's with the squeal?"
"That mint-green thing is a wood stove."
The Electrolux?
"Yes, and I've been trying to find one for a year now. It's the perfect size."
I nodded. "Okay. But do me a favor - do not act so excited. Don't tell me how much you want it. If I ask you what you think and you really, really want it, just shrug and say that you guess it's all right. Other than that, zip it."
We ambled up into the yard, said hello to the folks who were having it and wandered aimlessly looking at all the dreck for babies. After all, this county's main crop seems to be children.
I went to the big stove and said, "What's this thing?" Knowing perfectly well what it was. He explained it to me and Karen meandered over to the Electrolux stove.
He explained that one to Karen and showed beautiful chrome wings that went on top of it. The thing was really in perfect condition from what I could see and it was so cute, I could hardly stand it.
I shrugged. "I dunno, Kar. What do you think?"
She shrugged back. "Maybe."
The guy showed his hand by saying, "I really don't want to drag any of this crap back into the house."
Aha! The game's afoot.
"How much are you asking for it?"
There was a lot of shrugging done. He shrugged. "I'm thinking a hundred."
You, sir, are thinking with your ass. But that's not unusual here.
"Oh, jeez," I sighed. Pause. Pause. "What's the best price you can do for me?"
"Seventy five."
No. Still too much.
I sighed. "What would you say to fifty?"
"If I saw it, I'd say yes."
I paused. A moment. Then I forked over the fifty bucks and as we walked away with the Electrolux between us, I cursed myself for not having held out for twenty-five.
When we got in the car and drove away, Karen said, "Can I? Can I now?"
"Yes, you can."
SQUEEEEE. It's perfect. It's beautiful. It's just what I've been looking for, for so long. It's so cute. I love it. I would have handed him the hundred if I'd had it. And you got it for fifty!
I should have held out for twenty-five. I know he would have caved.
I made Karen swear to me that she would get a carbon monoxide detector and she did.
Still. It was a cute little thing.
Ed. Note: Whoa. I did a much better job than I thought. On eBay, the stove that comes closest to the one I bought for Karen just went for $1,500.
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