Guess what!  Guess what!  I made a buck!

Yes, that’s right: one whole dollar today on Saturday.  For context in case you showed up well after a year this one has been up, I went to the Grafton Flea Market’s first Saturday in a long, long time.  I mean, well before I frequented it regularly, or even the very first time back in 2003 roundabouts.

Aside of following George Carlin’s mentality of never attending any first annual event, the Grafton Flea Market’s veterans didn’t warm up to the notion of Saturday gigs, regardless of the current owner’s waiving of fees for them, for the same reason the former owners did away with them: Saturday is the primary estate/yard sale day for many a bargain hunter.  Net profit is something rather evasive in such a setting.  The counterargument has a similar bite of truth, however: those who hunt for bargains on Saturday are busy on Sunday doing other things, and vice versa.  I have beheld a rather consistent crowd that is indifferent when viewing a similar setup from the previous week.  Thus, the regular interior dealers operate at a disadvantage, particularly if they’re not extroverted or artists of “the deal”.

However, on Saturdays, that might change.  With excellent, cloudless weather after a string of miserable overcast/rainy weekends, I set out with a small pile of loose ends and hearty wares (i.e. no glass, bleachable paper, or water-susceptible delicacies).  If you want perspective, just some baskets of various shapes and sizes, a few plastic toys, and a long set of size 8 women’s shoes, including a particularly racy pair of knee-high, high-heel boots with scaly pattern and the color lavender.  Don’t ask; the guy who bequeathed them to me either couldn’t find a spot for them and they took up space, or I seem to lack diversity of wares.  I had recently acquired a clothes rack from a vendor who’s closing up shop for greener pastures online (I believe it’s OfferUp, where you can post videos and interact with a client one-on-one), but I’m not opening a boutique anytime soon.  Then again, those high-heel boots are wild.

Regardless, I haven’t quite gotten the flow down just yet.  Only after returning home did I devise the use of several luggage totes on hand to port the items into my vehicle instead of finagling with reusable bags.  I only made one dollar as well, so I’m not that thrilled, but there’s another angle to my exuberance.  That same dude who forked over the shoes?  He also deposited a wily if untestable flashlight the size of one and a half XBoxes–the bulky original, that is–which lacks a working light bulb but must be very easy to replace.  Not on my dime because I’m stripped.  Selling it for a wad of cash would be impossible.  But I did manage to sell it, and only it, by being reasonable with my price.

Since the burden of making it functional is on the buyer, making too high an offer would have soured him.  What they don’t tell you about flea markets or retail commerce at large is that holding onto an item might prevent you from selling something that could have been stored on that same exact spot.  This might explain shelf life due dates where one cannot legally sell an item past an expiration date, even if the item (e.g. smoky meat sticks ala Slim Jims or Jack Link’s) can outlive crickets and honey.  Switching out wares at the co-op is a priority, even though coordinating both the trip and processing suitable merchandise is a hassle.  I must do my due diligence and ensure the item is free of resistance like numerous stickers and library sleeves on books.

I don’t know how others handle this, though–selling stuff that might be incomplete.  One recurring vendor routinely goes through tons of merchandise at his spot outside, but he made enough on the first Saturday to cover costs (regular vendors can do a Saturday gig for free, in fact–not quite a hurdle to jump).  The other day, I bought a ton of kitschy board games and figurines celebrating the apparent merchandise franchise of the old situation comedy show, “The Golden Girls”.  There was a Clue that had you figure out who ate the last slice of cheesecake, and the Monopoly board was about as goofy.  Still, modern fans of the show might get a kick out of them, so I bit–even grabbing the Funko Pop figures, which I consciously refuse to do–from this same guy.

There is a lot I still have to learn about flea marketing if I want to stay solvent.

The gent who bought the big flashlight was interested and the piece was a particular head-turner since few people have never seen a big light beyond maybe a halogen one with a plug used in nighttime construction.  Maybe we can get road workers to use some of those during the graveyard shift instead of plugging up potholes during what should be rush hour.  I predicted no future need for it as I don’t even go to bed while it’s dark anymore.  Whatever the case may be, such an item has a boatload of utility and possibilities, provided you get a new bulb for it.  For a dollar, that would be priceless.  If not, he can always resell it for a higher price.

Now, why bring this up?  It seems Pyrrhic since I was there for so long, baking in a parking lot with one small table and three large blankets to display stuff, not to mention parking near a tree (hoping for shade but getting pollen and scads of dragonflies along for the ride) and taking up a corner, far away from the regular crowd of outdoor vendors.  Why was this worth the trip?

For one, I don’t have to lug the thing back home.  That’s not just a given, it’s the best short-term boon.

Second, sunbathing helped me realize that I can let hardy stuff bake and take UV light, which disinfects and rids anything of mustiness.  I use a storage space that never takes any sun, so I replaced the dead bulbs of the lighting rig with UV-generating black lights to help stave off living mustiness.  Indeed, I set books and VHS cassettes on my windowsill (not with the binder facing out, only the pages) just to bathe it in a routine trickle of such sun.  This is crucial because, if your stuff smells odd, chances are buyers will decline regardless of the price.  Selling clothes and plastic crap outside lets you purify musty items–two birds, one stone.

Third, the outside grind makes you want to sit down.  I never want to sit down.  That’s sort of a failing since I wander through the flea market, never paying strict attention to my booth since other people are around.  I charge low prices and never stock anything particularly sensitive, rare, or extraordinarily desirable.  Sounds counterintuitive, but my specialty is whatever gets tossed out by elderly people, which amounts to inexpensive room décor, kitchen utensils and unremarkable if functional appliances.  Sitting is rarely conducive to garnering sales, anyway–people might pass you by if you clam up, too–but you can always rise from a seat to address potential buyers or even shake their hand.

So, if that’s the case, then why is sitting important?  Well, for long stretches of flea market management, barring the need to clean and constantly reorganize an indoor space for maximum visibility, you’re going to get bored.  I decided to take time to pen concepts for a video game design document.  I had gotten pretty far and helped solidify concepts in a more concrete fashion that I would remember.  See, typing in a computer does not have the same physical feedback and interaction as writing on paper.  You can’t quite remember it as readily because neurological connections aren’t as numerous as with pad and pen.  Indeed, I might even forget about the past few posts I typed up here!  Good thing the Internet never forgets, huh?

In short, I managed to spend a pleasant moment just chilling and penning ideas outdoors for a change. I earned but one dollar and I am in no shape to make change for $20 bills, but I am still grateful that Saturday turned out uneventful rather than downright catastrophic.  It seems foolish to invest in so much time on flea marketing if it doesn’t earn a living, but I still insist on voting for anyone but the present administration because of it.  I was downright lucky to score a new job, too.  Ultimately, I wish to serve people and offer up a minor fit of joy at least or maybe something you can use or keep.

Things will improve, even if the time seems to accelerate ever faster as you age.  Here’s hoping the rest of the year makes a massive U-turn for the better!

At any rate, good hunting.