The number one questioned asked to me at yesterday's flea market was how on earth did I manage to fit the Gigantic Blue Sofa in my car?
It was a throwback to the seventies---twenty feet of curving comfiness with electric blue flowers and big enough to seat everybody you know if they just squish together a little bit. It's for somebody out there with a very special rec room.(There's me sitting on it, holding the parasol in complete comfort).
I freely admitted that it was delivered by a friend's truck. Indeed it was his sofa (because that was the second question: did this thing previously reside in my living-room?). I was just the Commission Girl if it sold.
But it was unanimously decided by the other amused vendors and passers-by who had not seen said couch arrive that my car was some sort of magical mobile of Infinite Capacity.
"Yer like that Mary Poppins chick!", said one old fellow, making Poppins-like arm gestures.
Well, I did have an umbrella with me...
How could I blame them really? The regular flea-market goers have long seen me unloading my wares in the early light of dawn, and marvel what I can fit into that old Dodge beast.
There's barely room for me when I've done loading it up the night before a sale.
Now recently I was considering cutting back on my Flea-Marketing ways--you have to get up with the birds, it junks up your garage, and it can be a hit-or-miss enterprise depending on what kind of knick-knack people are looking for that day.
Turns out I had exactly what fellas were looking for this weekend: a whole mess of fishing rods and hooks and plastic bait and sinkers and gutting knives. Guys who regularly bypass my tables because of the plethora of pottery and doilies were suddenly hob-nobbing with me.
Thank-yous to my husband's co-worker for giving up fishing and donating all her stuff to me. I will think of her when I'm in gadding about in Venice and Rome next May. Anybody want some picture frames?--she gave me a raft-load of those too. :)
Anyway, although it was financially a good day, it was still stinky-hot weather-wise, and I nearly melted into goo despite a hat, lemonade, vats of sunscreen and my parasol.
That parasol might have saved my life. I had several offers on it. Not for sale. Uh uh.
Heh, I managed to sell all the squished out-of-shape sun hats on my table and a really ugly pair of sunglasses. People were desperate I think. There was a swim-meet going on at the park across the street and there was a steady stream of families with heat-glazed eyes and wet hair passing through looking for entertainment between races.
It was such a fine day that I actually spent a little of my market money on sparkly rings and baubles that were glittering in the stall next to mine. I eyed them up all day.
The ugly couch did not sell, no huge surprise. One seedy-looking fellow said he'd buy it and would return with cash, but I didn't pin my hopes on him. Turns out I was justifiably skeptical. At least I had somewhere relaxing to sit.
As I began to pack up that afternoon, I heard one vendor say to someone: "Ooh! I want to see how she's going to fit that thing in the car!"
Yes. My magic car. I'm sorry I had to disappoint. :)