Sold out! I usually am off work on Thursday but this week is too busy on Thursday so I took today off. This morning, Silver(that's his stage name kind of like Black Jack Mulligan was a stage name for a old school wrestler back at Greenville Memorial Auditorium. Evan is not a Wrestler though but a musician. Although his dad Ford Silver could be a wrestler because he looks just like Goldberg. I don't mess with Ford because he is ripped and would kick my butt if I called him names or something like Chevy Gold.).
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Evan and I left for the Picken's Flea Market at 6:00 a.m. We arrived at 6:30 a.m. and it was packed. We couldn't find a open table so we found a nice grassy knoll and proceeded to drop all of my junk on the grass. Evan had some nice merchandise like a PSP and DVDs to sell. The customers started coming quick and often. I had set a goal to pocket $200 off my Jeep full of junk. By 8:15 a.m. I had made $80. A guy walked up that looked interested in what I was selling. I told him I would sell it all for $200. He thought for a minute and said I'll give you $150 and that mister bought himself a Jeep full of junk. By 8:30 I was completely sold out and had came in at $30 above my goal. So guess what Melissa got for Mother's Day? A $200 shopping spree. I kept $30 for me to eat bolied peanuts and lunch and stuff on. Evan hauled in the big bucks. He made $12. Not quite enough to get him the goat he was wanting to take home.
The earliest I had ever sold out before was 10:30 a.m. at the White Horse Road flea market. The key to selling out is not selling individual items. I sell a box of crap at a time. You salt the box. Put one or two nice things in a box full of junk and it makes people feel better about wasting their money on your junk. If you can make people feel good about paying you good money for your junk then you have done a great service to humanity.
This afternoon I was sitting in the back yard with Melissa and Isaac and all of the sudden we heard a noise like a machine gun echoing near our house. I looked up and a wood pecker had confused our gutter on the garage for a tree. I thought for a minute, you know a woodpecker has a miserable existence. All day long smashing his head against a tree. I wonder if that hurts? I'm glad I'm not a woodpecker. I guess after you have been beating your face against a tree it would be easy to confuse a gutter for a tree.
Tomorrow, meeting with pastors in the morning in Greenville. Tomorrow afternoon working in the office.
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