Thursday, September 4, 2014

Cowboy Down - A Conversation Between Two Professional Thrift Shoppers - Part Six - "Moon Walk Space Walk"

Cowboy Down

A Conversation Between Two Professional Thrift Shoppers

Part Six

"Moon Walk Space Walk"

            “Ok... I feel we need to ‘return to base’ on this; we’re getting a ‘too much’ for the reader.”
            “Why’s that?  It’s not really hard.  Or stressful.  I mean; it’s THRIFT STORES we’re talking about.  You know; you park and go in.  Then leave and drive away to the NEXT one.  Look at me!  I don’t go to a gym.  I eat in restaurants and sleep in hotels.  This isn’t exhausting.  I don’t freak out doing this.”
            “Right.  Yes.  But.  This whole scale thing; that we actually do this, is big sounding.  It’s... well... we didn’t PLAN this.  And they can’t plan it either.  I want to get back to that more.  Someone can’t just hit the road and start filling warehouses.  I mean, we haven’t even mentioned actually SELLING all this stuff.  But that doesn’t matter.  Let’s get back to what got us here:  The why we can do this and other can’t.  And how, really, we didn’t, like, PLAN THIS.  We’re just good at it.  And love it.”
            “And love it.  Say that again twice.”
            “It’s a gas doing this.”
            “It’s a gas doing this and I love it.  I never would have thought I’d be doing something like this.  It’s just way out there.”
            “A moon walk.’
            “Space walk.  I mean:  Way out there.  I NEVER thought it would be like this in thrift stores”.

            “Ok... forget all the support structure to doing this six states – six days stuff.”
            “I don’t want to forget the food.  The food is great.  We eat in great restaurants we find.  I mean.  Well... we both talk about THAT more than finding the stuff.”
            “Yeah.  Is that scale too?  Ha, ha.  Noooo...  I mean...  we’re talking about what’s for lunch in my car by eight thirty (in the morning).  You know.... THREE THRIFT STORES LATER what we’re gonna order.  I think that’s called a PERK.  That’s what they call that.  You know... we don’t CARE about that (the expense).  Some idiot would.  Tell ‘em:  I JUST TOLD THEM.  This is SPACE WALK.  It’s not regular business stuff.  They need to understand that right here.  WE do THIS to NOT have to be THAT (‘real business stuff’).  GOT IT?”.
            “Yeah, like... you really DO like SF (Part Four).”
            “Well... not that so much.  The big pictures.  YEAH ok SCALE.  The SCALE is SPACE WALK.  That’s bigger than moon walk.  Like... I don’t save receipts from lunch.  But I take pictures of the food!  And txt ‘em to people stuck in their jobs.  Ha, ha.”

            “Yeah.  Just send ‘em the plate shot with no comment.  They know.  You know:  ‘WHERE ARE YOU WHAT’S THAT?”
            “And say it.”
            “Say what?”
            “You photo txt the hits (antiques and art finds) too.”
            “OF COURSE THAT.  And they BUY IT TOO.  LEAVE THE ninety-nine ($.99) TAG RIGHT ON IT!  Ha, ha.”

            Ok... there we go... we’re getting back to the way it really is.  And remember too:  NO HIGHWAYS.  I’m not gonna find a rare antique going eighty in the outside lane.  And I don’t want to go eighty in ANY lane ANYWAY.  I want to SEE THINGS.  Little villages and little people and little stores and MY LUNCH.”
            “We’re back.  THAT IS the moon walk.”
            “SPACE WALK; it’s BIGGER than the moon.”
            “Ok... Space Walk:  And we need FUEL to get that far out in space.  How do you get it?”
            “Fuel?  Me?  I make the hits (buy a good antique or fine art item cheap in a thrift store).”
            “Now just HOW do you do that; gas her up?”
            “We find the stuff.”

            “Now... how can we capture that?  Your in there (a thrift store) and your, like, BUYING.  Stuff.  So... most of it is NOT rare antiques and art.  Yet, your like BUYING way more than other people.  And, like, nobody notices or cares about that.  I mean, no one even, like... especially you (late forties not-to-well-dressed WELL dressed woman).  So... right there:  What are you doing.”
            “Well... I’m just buying the crud that sells.  I mean; it’s NOT crud.  It’s good stuff.”
            “What’s good stuff?”
            “Well... you know what I like.  I like... quality; quality made, quality name brand.  Clean.  Perfect.  Upper middle class and up.  More up than upper.  Ha, ha.  You know; they (the donation source) spent money for it (the object).  Anything like that:  I always buy all that.  It sells.  Even the ones who look it up (internet research price on their smart phone, etc.) buy it.  I keep it priced right.  At the (antiques) shows... I’m like the only one doing that hardball (consistently).
            “So, like, everything in the place that’s like that is gone; you buy it.”
            “Gone.  I strip the store.”
            “And it grows back (the next time she visits the same store a new offering of this type of merchandises has appeared, is priced for sale and she again, buys it; ‘it grows back’).  So... that’s not hard or stressful.”

            “NO.  Ha, ha.  What’s for lunch?  I mean; they (store volunteers) wrap it up in bags and I put it in the car.  Then I walk down the street to a restaurant.”
            “And, I guess I should say here... that a lot of times you have different friends with you who... I’m being clear... are NOT doing this (buying antiques and art at thrift stores).  They’re along for a ride.”
            “Oh yes.  COMPANY.  They buy a pair of shoes or something.  But they LOVE going with me.  You know:  LUNCH.  And my crazy world.  They love it.”
            “Right... so... you know... I gotta note that these guests DO help you; run cover for you.  Like... the two stupid rich women eating lunch thing.  Admit it:  You do that.  You know your doing that.”
            “How stupid can I be?  That’s the REAL one (strategy).  LIKE:  Buying those sneakers for my DAUGHTER.  Like...”
            “THAT LIKE.  You little FOX.”
            “Yeah:  SPACE WALK TIME.”
            “Your actually like a traveling show.  You know that?  Your, like, worse than me.”
            “I am not.”
            “You are too.  Your buying those sneakers like your Mrs. Tittle Mouse but all the time your, like, ‘YES’ and even your FRIEND doesn’t know it and just keeps babbling on about the ‘kitty cat BASKET is soooo CUTE’ crap.

            “Ok.  You got me.  Pretty good.”
            “So what about the sneakers.”
            “They go to my daughter during lunch.  Like:  TXT THE PHOTO (only).  And she’s like ‘MOM!’.”
            “And your friend’s, like, doesn’t even know what’s happened even though she’s right there AND you tell EVERYTHING.”
            “Right.  You know.  ONCE this one friend was with me and another friend and I did something like that (the sneakers) and my one friend said something and the other friend says ‘but ****, don’t you REALIZE what she DOES.  She JUST SOLD those.”.  That one; she’s figured it out.  Funny, huh.  And she never says anything at all about it still.  But she gets it.”
            “What were the sneakers?”
            “Italian designer poopiee.”
            “But WHAT?”
            “That?  French Sole (“fs/ny”).  Patent leather.  Stupid.  I’m not gonna wear that stuff.”
            “Yeah but you picked them right off.”

            “OF COURSE.  That’s my job.  Ha, ha.  Yeah, like... txt her at lunch.  I mean:  Entertain me for six bucks.  Can you imagine wearing those?  SHE can.  THAT’S worth it.   She doesn’t ever admit it you know.  MOM found those.  Like... when her friends compliment her FEET she never says MY MOM.  You know what I mean.  So... it’s like revenge.  I put those on her feet.  They’re way better than anything she buys.  I like doing that to her.  Blows her mind.”
            “And those cost (new) like?”
            “You know; one-fifty.”
            “And you paid six (dollars).
            “And tax.  Patent leather.  Nice.  Soft.  Super comfy.”
            “So that’s like nothing to you.”
            “Well... it always good for txting her during lunch.  That’s the best part.  Otherwise.  You know:  ‘Designer crud’ totally.  You know... let’s just think about this:  How they got there.  You know where it is (where the thrift store is she got them from).  That town (upper tier coastal Maine) is FILLED with that.  You know; what you call the white SUV girls.  With all the trimmings.  Like.  They wear ‘em; those ‘flats’ right.  So... then it’s over after, like, TWO lunches.  So, like... they don’t say anything to anyone.  They just donate ‘em.  I mean:  Taking those in the back door of that thrift shop is like us taking out the compost bucket.  It’s that clean.  The sneakers are their compost.  I’m like the crow on the compost heap when I’m in that (thrift) store.  It’s (socio-economic) classic really.  So American.  That’s why they’re still there (the shoes have not sold).  It takes a crow like me to buy them.  For most of the people in there (shopping at the thrift store); they (the sneakers) go right by them.  They’re, like, looking for socks for their feet?  What ever.”

            “Ok.  Now... let’s take all this onto a real antique.  Let’s get this to what we're actually looking for”.
            “I think it’s what we’re NOT looking for.  Right?  It’s just THERE.”
            “Like the sneakers.”
            “Like the sneakers.”

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