NO, THE GARAGE IS NOT FOR SALE...BUT EVERYTHING ELSE IS.

Man, I hate garage sales. I mean, I really really hate them. So the last thing I want to do on a weekend is endure 5 hours of it, but being a loving and supportive husband, I gave everything I could to make it happen. My lovely wife doesn't really love them either, but she recognizes the importance of them. You haul all the crap that you don't really need out into the yard, put a price on it that is agreeable, sell it for maybe a little less and it saves you the energy and time to haul it off, gives to people who might not have the financial means to afford it elsewhere and you make cheddah in the process. At least that's what you hope.

In preparation for the sale, we put up 15 signs around the neighborhood, took an ad out in the paper and website, sifted through about 8 years of absolute crap and not-so absolute crap, got up at 6am, set up our chairs and boombox and then just sit and let it happen. Pretty simple.

Before I go on, let me tell you when I was hanging signs I got a weird comment yelled at me from a passing car. Four guys packed in a pick up drive by and one yells out "Get a job!" and then speeds off. I thought, what a peculiar thing to scream out. What if my sign said, "LOST DOG. PLEASE HELP FIND."? Anyhow, I suppose I appeared in a state financial desperation. Oh well. Some might suggest I always look like I'm in a state of financial desperation. Nothing a good shave can't fix. I'm not one of four guys packed into a pickup meant for two. I should've yelled, "Get a bike!"

Anyhow, crack of dawn and we're up moving everything out front for the sale. Oh glorious day! Saw alot people like this in the early going:

I doesn't really matter so long as they have money for me to take. Some of the furniture we put out there went pretty quick. We bargained quickly thinking we don't want to be out here all day. In fact, my lovely wife's little quirky greeting to every customer was, "Name your price. We don't want a sunburn." It was cute at first, but it got lamer and lamer. I told her she needs to find something else to say. But at least it got old because that suggests that we were getting some customers. We were wheeling and dealing though and my lovely wife was stacking that cash and counting it like a rapper. I told her keep a low profile with it because either someone would think we were doing too good and didn't deserve full price for anything or, two, someone would col' take our money and shake. She said she could defend herself. I suppose I don't really doubt that.

An old man walked up and, kicked around for a few seconds, then looked at me and asked, "Do you have any guns or ammunition?" Then I remembered we're in the Yellow.

Records were 25 cents and, still, no one picked up Rick James Street Songs. What's wrong with these people.

My lovely wife sold her Nike Shox to some young girl for three bucks. I felt like we got robbed. But then she said, "She's going to have the coolest shoes at school and that's enough for me." Maybe my head was in the wrong place.

I started bargaining with her clothes offering a "buy three and get one free" offer. She didn't appreciate it at first, but then we started moving some clothes.

Two women almost fought over a smoothie maker. Then we were educated by the woman who jacked it off the table when the other woman was distracted by the jewelry. She said, "The rule is if you set it down on the table, it's free game." Guess I wasn't so well-versed in garage sale rules.

Sold my lovely wife's old computer for, I think, $70. Hope everything works. She assured me it did, but you never know with computers.

The heat took it out of us. Our plan was to stay up for seven hours but then sweated that idea out of our pores and decided to go 50% off at 11 and then quit at noon.

When all was said and done, we netted about $300--a 100% increase upon our last garage sale. My lovely wife always comes through. The remaining articles we dropped off at the thrift store. The garage is alot emptier. We're alot lighter. And our back pocket's full of cash money.

I still hate them, but my lovely wife makes them bearable. If I had to sit out there by myself, I would've put up a sign that says, "TAKE WHAT YOU WANT AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS."

Oh, speaking of, instead of hauling a couple of coffee tables to the thrift store in a vehicle that was already topped out, I put them on the corner of the property by the street and bet my lovely wife that they'd be gone by the time we arrived back from the thrift store.

When we're pulling it up, I see a car with its trunk open and, wouldn't you know it, someone was taking both of them. I tell my wife to just drive by, round the block and come back so we didn't startle them and make awkward of the situation. Then, as we drive by, I see another car backed up in our driveway. I say, "Wait! Go back! What the hell are they doing?!" I thought they were looting the whole house. Right when we swing back around they were on their way. I was about to throw down.

Anyhow, here's to garage sales and go-get-'em lovely wives. They rule. Mission accomplished. Hot and tired. Angry Tim suggested Red Robin, swearing it's the best restaurant in the world. We'll see. Oh, and he got a new car. Congratulate him. He deserves it. Trust me.