Getting the Right Deal

I grew up frugal. And while I could lie about it to you all, I suppose things haven’t really changed much.

Of course, in weaker moments, I have been known to blame it on my genes. You know what they say, if you ever want to hear Abraham Lincoln scream, just give a Dutchman a penny.  Notoriously tight fisted we tend to be.

And given my propensity to make copper wire out of a penny by stretching my dollars as far as I can, there are few things I enjoy more than a good old fashioned garage sale or flea market.

That is genetic as well. Whenever my father was asked by a sale’s proprietor what he was looking for, my father’s most oft quoted response has been; “Just the thing”. Meaning that he has no specific thing that he needs, but just that he enjoys poking through other people’s cast-offs for a good deal.

So, at least I can say that I come by my second hand browsing honestly.

 

Some years back, the Boy Scout troop that I was associated with decided to drive out into the Central Valley of California to the small town of Turlock. Twice a year, Turlock hosts one of the largest old car swap meets in California.

If you haven’t gone to one lately, I must say that swap meets have changed some since I was a boy. Back then, a swap meet would be a gathering of mostly men who dumped a hodge-podge collection of rusty and greasy used car parts on the ground and if you could figure out what it was, you could haggle over the price and head home with your new “treasure”.

Now-a-days, heck, fully half of the sellers are selling new parts, half of what is left is selling antiques and collectables, and the last few are rusty-greasy types from days of yore.

 

In any case, on the ride over to Turlock, some of the boy's fathers who were aware of my garage sale haunts began to chide me some.

One said with a laugh; “Hey, Marty, when we get there will you give me some pointers on how to get a really good deal?”

Another chimed in with: “Marty should have to stay in the car for the first half hour to give the rest of us a chance”.

And so the good natured kidding went for the last 30 minutes or so of the drive.

Now, I’ve been know to dish it out a bit. A dry witticism here, and pointed remark there. And so, as all was in fun, I laughed along with the group and agreed, that they could learn a thing or two from an expert such as myself, and that I would only charge them a dollar or two a piece to for the pleasure of watching me operate.

After gaining entrance the boys headed off to look at the show cars, and we fathers headed towards the sellers.

 

Holding up my end of the kidding from the drive in, I turned to the rest of the fathers as we approached the first booth and said: “Okay gentlemen, if’n you want to learn, watch closely now”.

The booth was some 40 foot wide and 10 feet deep. Tables piled with small items were up front along the isle and larger things like fenders and doors and engine blocks were stacked behind.

Looking over the junk on the first table, I noticed an unused sharpening stone. I picked it up and asked the man behind the table how much he wanted for it. He looked and said, “Oh, that’s Bob’s, he’ll have to give you a price”, and pointed towards another man on his side of the tables some 30 feet away.

I held up the stone and hollered “Hey Bob, how much do you want for this”

He glanced my way and said: “What is it?”

“Worth less than it was 5 seconds ago if you don’t even know what your selling”, I replied with a grin.

Bob waked over.

He looked at the sharpening stone and said “How about a buck?”

I said; “I was thinking a quarter”.

“Tell you what” Bob says, “I’ll flip you for it, if you win, a quarter, if I win, a buck”

“Okay“ I say, “but we have to use your quarter”.

Now if Bob had been paying attention right then, he would have known that he was headed for trouble. But he was caught up in the spirit of the thing and promptly dug into his pocket and came out with a quarter.

“Call it in the Air”, he said, flipping the coin up high and catching it against the back of his left hand, covered by the right..

I called heads, to Bob’s dismay, when he lifted his right hand, the shiny head was pointed at the sky.

“Well, guess you get it for a quarter” Bob told me.

I dug a dollar bill out of my pocket, smiled and said; “Can you make change for a buck?”

Bob just looked at me a moment, then shook his head and said: “Aw hell, just take the damn thing”.

 

I walked back to the open mouth scout fathers and said: “And that gentlemen, is how its done”.

 

You know, come to think of it, none of them have said a word about my second hand shopping habits since.

　

- © 2013 Marty K Vandermolen, All Rights Reserved