We held our one and only yard sale in 1997 when we were moving from Virginia to Utah. We advertised it as opening at 9 a.m. At 7:30 a.m., someone knocked on our door, asking if they could look at things early. Someone else looked in our front window.
During the sale, I caught someone trying to get into our house. “Oh,” she said. “I thought it was part of it. Is there anything in there for sale?” Yeah, right. That’s why you looked around furtively and quietly tried the door.
Another woman said, “I’m wanting this for my church, and it’s a really poor congregation. Would you just donate it to me so I can take it to them?”
“Really,” I said. “What’s the name of your church?”
“Oh, um. It’s, um...” and her voice trailed off while she tried to come up with an answer. Good try, lady.
We made $800 but swore never again.
During the sale, I caught someone trying to get into our house. “Oh,” she said. “I thought it was part of it. Is there anything in there for sale?” Yeah, right. That’s why you looked around furtively and quietly tried the door.
Another woman said, “I’m wanting this for my church, and it’s a really poor congregation. Would you just donate it to me so I can take it to them?”
“Really,” I said. “What’s the name of your church?”
“Oh, um. It’s, um...” and her voice trailed off while she tried to come up with an answer. Good try, lady.
We made $800 but swore never again.