Jeremiah's School of Levitation

This past weekend, I went to a giant junk sale held in an old hangar on the lake. This junk sale was organized by a group of rich people from a local hoity-toity, Bill Gates-funded academy and, I suppose, was both a fund-raiser for their private institution (which, I'm sure, already has enough funds to fund another school, but, hey, you don't get filthy rich by being content with just being plain old boring rich) and a way for them to mingle with commoners by offering us the crap they don't want in thier mansions.

Well, they need a little more lesson in mingling. Apparently, the rich still fear, somewhere beneath all that designer skin, that we really will eat them. And, even worse, try to steal some of their junk. I figured this out by noticing that the level of security for this glorified garage sale rivalled that of our international airport. We had people checking bags, twice! We had hook-lipped security folks posted at each area. Dusty Old Self Help Books for Bored and Desultory Kept Wives had their security, as well as Grimy Old Toys That We Even Forgot We Had Because We Spend a Grand In Toys R Us Everytime We Go In. And, of course, the watching eyes were tight in the Laughably Outdated Electronics section. My wife was accosted for wanting to put her small purchase ("purchase" I said now) in her purse, because, according to the accoster, she might be stopped at the door and accused of stealing. Now, she bought a couple of glass candle holders, about the size of shot glasses, and in fact, much resembling shot glasses. She would have to be on crack to want to steal these. Actually, even a crack addict would think twice, figuring they were worth less than a tootsie roll. But, you know these commoners. They'll steal junk if you don't watch them. And, another thing, what gaddamned right do a bunch of over zealous, over-wrought junk peddlers have to go into my wife's purse?

There was armed security in the parking lot and there were people posted at each outside corner of the hangar to catch, I suppose, the commoners who would snatch some junk and try to make a run for it. I was surprised there weren't Blackhawks circling overhead.

I won't even go into how overpriced this junk was. Okay, I'll just name a few prices. Plastic handheld bicycle pump, very used: 5 bucks! A deflated football. Black and lightly used, but very sylish apparently because it was 3 bucks! A beat up junior-sized guitar with a string missing--30 bucks! Now, if it sounds like these are actually very low prices, then you've not visited your local Goodwill, Salvation Army, or other neighborhood thrift store, where these same items were at least 50% cheaper (yup, I priced them--well I couldn't find a BLACK football, but there were plenty of other colors, apparently out of style). Freakin' hmmmm.....

Frankly, I'll take the trusting confines of Goodwill any day. No snipers, no uniformed folks strolling with their arms behind their backs, WAITING for you to steal, or even get that stealy look in your eyes, and the Goodwill junk is far more reasonably-priced.

And, the money I spend in Goodwill goes somewhere useful to people like me, instead of contributing to the iniquity of our city's schools, which is another blog entirely...

Harumph!

They had ARMED SECURITY? Rent-a-cops with ammo? Ho-ho-ho, those funny rich people, always making with the jokes.

I'll bet they ran right home and wrote down all their junk as 'donations' too, the fat greasy bastards.

It was cops, actually.