Jenny bailed on sales and so did Karl, leaving me alone on Saturday morning. I was up insanely early and decided to hit a 7:30 AM sale across town and then head back to hit a sale a little closer to Ballard. The one across town was a bust and I could barely get away from the seller that wouldn’t stop talking to me about the crap in his sale, including a homemade coffin (that I didn’t feel comfortable taking a photo of) – EEEK!

The next sale had tons of great stuff, but I did see a younger guy digging into the records, I sort of peeked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at and I felt like looking at the rest of the sale was a better bet. He purchased 5 records out of 2 boxes, so I didn’t feel like I had missed out. I did pick up a ton of stuff at this sale including a really cool vintage fan, an old beer box, some books and a nice old bottle with a marble stopper.

All of a sudden Jewelry Guy is at the sale and for some reason he thinks we are friendly now and he starts talking to me. I feel like I am bordering on rude in my responses, but he doesn’t seem to even notice. To make matters worse this super record squirrel guy that we see all the time shows up and starts tossing records around like he owns the joint. I have already gone off about how much I hate how he treats records at sales, but then Jewelry Guy starts saying “Yeah, another record collector was here before you and he picked up all the good records,” rubbing it in and making up that they had some super valuable LP that I have never heard of just to mess with him. Hmm … I am sort of liking Jewelry Guy a little more now. Even if it did feel a little like a “what did one record squirrel say to the other record squirrel?” joke.

After that I was on my way to hit a sale on my list, but wound up at a crazy old lady digger sale. There were no prices and they just kept bringing out more and more boxes.

Box of fun fur? Check!

Elvis collectables? Check!

Four boxes of Avon perfume? Sure! Sadly, someone broke one of the bottles, making the entire sale reek. You know something is smelling really bad if it makes the outdoors smell bad.

This woman seemed to have everything, and I sort of had the feeling that they hadn’t even scratched the surface of what was in this house.

They had everything you could think of, but no clothing. I asked about it and a woman said she would bring me a box down. Nice! I kept looking around, but I felt like once I started to dig into a box I would sort of get a bad hoarding vibe, so I would put things back. Then the nice woman brought me a box of vintage clothing and before I could even set it on the ground a woman almost pounces on me and starts pulling clothing out. When I looked at her, she said “I have been waiting for them to bring out clothing!” Oh, OK.

I am not going to fight over clothing or anything else for that matter, but one of the gals comes over and quietly says in my ear, “I did bring those out for you, not her. I don’t like her.” It’s then I notice that she has collected about 5 boxes of stuff and whenever anyone gets near them she starts freaking out on them.

At this point I just decided to make my few purchases and get the hell out of there.

I hit a few more sales, but none of them were all that blogworthy. Sorry Jenny wasn’t here to style my trunk shot, making it look pretty boring …