...


Cont'd.

I TURNED OFF THE ALARM.

I had one last conversation with myself. Then I got up and put on my clothes.


This is just incredible! I thought, as I drove through the dark of night. I was laughing out loud. Surely I'll get there and find the place deserted! It was 5:10 a.m. and the lovely moon was high in the sky.
Then I thought, Hmm. Just what would I do if no one were there? I drove a little slower.
What had I been thinking?! Would it really matter so much to have an excellent spot--I mean, could it possibly be worth a whole hour of sleep?! Although, since I didn't get a wink after 2:30, anyway...
Well, here I was, and by the dim light of the moon I could see that two or three other flea marketers were setting up shop. This looks good, I thought.
I will find an advantageous spot before the big influx.

However, none of the small handful who were there, or the several who arrived soon after, seemed to be vying for any particular area of the parking lot. There were vast open spaces. So I parked next to a friendly woman who informed me that it didn't really matter where one set up on Friday; Saturday--now that was the day things got busy!


I wrested the table from the car and unloaded the trunk, reassessing the value of things as I set them out for the whole world's inspection (...well, at least the world of local folks who are looking for bargains on a Friday morning. A world, I discovered, which is not that large).


I felt a little silly erecting my beach umbrella before the sun had even peeked over the horizon,
but I pictured a hoped-for swarm of eager shoppers arriving at dawn...best to be prepared.

I got out my folding chair, and
my book: Mao's Last Dancer;
my sustenance: small bag of almonds, banana, and water bottle;
my equipment: cell phone, camera, masking tape and pen;
my bag of change: two ten's, two five's, lots of ones and a roll of quarters.
I had a nice, satisfied feeling of preparedness as I settled in to wait.
And then I realized I was freezing! Which is to say, of course, that I had forgotten to bring anything to protect me from the early-morning chill. And when I say chill, I'm talking about unseasonably cool, goose-bumpy temperatures. The friendly woman next to me had donned a heavy jacket. But what good fortune was mine--offered for sale at my very own space was an orange cotton sweater, exactly my size!

Eventually the sun arrived, and heat and light showed up hand-in-hand. But shoppers? Let me just say, I was well engrossed in the life of Li Cunxin before I saw anyone hand-in-hand (It was the "hat people" [a name this big-hat-wearing couple gave themselves, for obvious reasons (not so obvious was why they would want that name. Nevertheless, I had only one hat for sale--its size: Newborn;
and, hmm, they showed no interest.)])

In spite of the very slim crowd, and the even slimmer sales, I was having a splendid time. Walt, on my right, convinced me to take a spin on a bike--one of the two he had for sale. (Let me point out, this is the kind of thing one can do, Dear Reader, when shoppers are scarce as hen's teeth.) I enjoyed chatting with Judith on my left, and her eighty-nine-year-old mother, who showed up to give her a break. The elderly one (her daughter informed me) is planning to drive herself to New England later this summer.

And here's the story of an interesting fact that I learned: I saw Judith using a magic marker on a sign she had taped to her card table loaded with bric-a-brac. "Are you lowering a price already?" I asked, as it was still early in the day.
"Well, no, not really" she said. It was a mumbled response, and she didn't explain. But when a woman who was perusing her items at the time had walked out of earshot, Judith pointed to a deerskin in a heap under the table. "I'm giving away this deerskin," she said. "It's illegal to sell it."
"Really?" I exclaimed.
"Oh, yeah," she replied. "No animal skins or taxidermy stuff. You can be fined. I know of one man who got caught and fined at a yard sale." Then she pulled the sign around for me to see-- Pay $25 for the moose--deerskin is free!
She showed me a silly little statue of a moose on its hind legs. "Twenty-five dollars for this, and I give 'em the deerskin!" Then she added, "It's not illegal, of course, to give it away!"


Well, the pleasant morning wore on. The scarcity of shoppers could certainly not be blamed on the weather. Judith reminded me, however, that paycheck-stretching is common near the end of the month; it's not a good time to be selling.
But it wasn't all that long before a man came by and asked Judith, "How much you want for the deerskin?"
"Oh, you can have it," she said. "All you have to do is buy this statue." She pointed it out.


He studied the statue. "Well, I don't really want it," he said.
"Just buy it!" she said. "You'll get the deerskin!"
He looked at the statue again, closely. Then he forked over the twenty-five dollars and she rolled up the deerskin and gave it to him.
"And shall I put the moose in a bag for you?" she asked.
He leaned over and gave it one last intent look. "No, you can keep that," he said.


And evidently that's what most of the trickle of shoppers were thinking when they looked at my stuff. When Judith began to pack up her moose statue and other unsold items around 11:30, I followed suit. Walt was still trying to sell his two bikes, but half of the sellers had called it quits. I had gotten to page eighty in my book; Mao's Great Leap Forward was in full swing.

It was perfect timing for a quick reloading of the car and a trip to the thrift shop, where I made a sizable divestment. Then home...where I took
a sizable nap!


...