Of Yard Sales & Crazy Tales

by Felicia Donovan

Friends of mine and I decided to clear out our respective "treasures" this past weekend. You know the stuff - eight-track tapes, vinyl albums (which, apparently, are quite vogue these days) and the assorted collection of clutter that ends up in the back of your closet until you decide to move and realize that you a) either bought it again when you couldn't find it or b) could have used it a year ago but it's of no use now.

Our adventures began with the "Early Birds" who somehow missed the signs and ads indicating an 8AM start. At 7:30, they began to show up.

"We haven't even taken off the tarps," I lamented as they strolled up the long driveway.

"We'll help you," they all offered.

"Damn right," I thought to myself. "If you're showing up this early, you'd better have stopped for coffee, too."  I promptly put them to work clearing and helping me setup. That'll teach 'em.

But the most interesting point of the day, by far, was the elderly woman who pulled up my friend's long, curvy driveway lined with other cars along the edge, in her Lincoln Continental. Pulling in - not a problem. Backing out - well, let's just say that's where all the fun began. First of all, when a Lincoln backs up into a Nissan, guess who wins? Fortunately, the Nissan was just pushed a little and no apparent damage was caused. One friend repeatedly banged on the Lincoln's window to alert the driver that she was hitting the Nissan.  At the same time, a couple, who had just arrived for bargains, came charging up the driveway when they saw the Lincoln repeatedly push the Nissan.

"Ma'am!" everyone yelled. "You're hitting that car!"

"I am not!" the driver insisted.

"Three witnesses saw you."

This prompted the driver to finally emerge. She looked around at the small crowd and threw her arms up in the air.

"Well," she said gruffly, "Do they have a problem?"

Undaunted, she proceeded to get back into the driver's seat. One gentleman stepped forward and made a firm offer to back the Lincoln out on her behalf. We all breathed a huge sigh of relief.

The elderly driver finally relented and we watched as the gentleman deftly back the Lincoln out of the long, curvy driveway. The owner jammed her hands onto her waist and in a loud voice said with much indignation, "Well! He could have at least offered to give me a ride!"

With shaking heads, we all watched her walk down the driveway and take control of her car again.

Yard sales. Used comforters, $5. The Monkees on vinyl, $1. Plots for future stories - Priceless.