Today at the Flea Market, I finally sold one of the CRT-TV’s I had reserved for interested game players. And yes, they are valuable because input lag really chafes video game players throughout the world. Until they design new technology that minimizes or eliminates input lag, I will harvest and sell the functioning ones. There is a TV with a power button that does work, but the mechanism is broken off just enough to make it a chore to power on without a universal remote controller.
Some things are better than having lots of sex with a waifu who’s immune to aging. Playing a classic video game on a CRT is one of them. Want proof? Play the Resident Evil remake released for the GameCube. First, play a digital copy on a flat-screen TV. Looks good for a sixth-generation console game, right? Then, legally procure both a CRT-TV and a copy of the original GameCube disc version of said remake. Now, play it. Call me in the morning. See the difference?
One of the things I noticed at the live location: whenever I gallivant outside hunting for new material, the booth I have will be tended by the kid tending a neighboring booth. Hot ticket, been doing this for several years with his family. So, last week I discovered that one of my leather jackets had sold in my absence. The same thing happened this week with the television. You pick up on the recurrence whenever you are also self-conscientious about appearances.
You start to wonder if it’s you, as though people are intimidated or gobsmacked while you’re around and opt out of asking for a price regardless of interest. This business insists you stand at attention for security’s sake. Yet, the pattern tells me I must forfeit convention and just say, “Sure, I trust you. If you see something good, toss down some green where it was and take it.” I always prop super-fair deals while there, but they don’t sell as often when I’m present and accounted for.
This is not without precedent. For one, I don’t sell anything of extraordinary value or risk. Second, prices for items never exceeds $5 unless the item is difficult to reach. I also do not sell items like CD’s & DVD’s, objects whose principal value is tucked inside elaborate but unlocked packaging. This after years of getting suckered while purchasing them in bulk from vendors. Jewelry would have been out of the question, but I bought some hand-me-down necklaces from a vendor before she retired her post. They sell often and invite another demographic to my booth. I alert my neighbor before I set out and place the display within his direct line of sight.
Most of the time, I’m not too worried about shrink-based losses. What I’m worried about more is being there and everyone passing me by. Not being there and still making sales? Nothing feels better than that (except lots of sex with an ageless waifu). Speaking of which, for the past few days, my booths at the co-op have consistently sold items daily. Seems the shop’s foot traffic has improved from last year (of course–any business foot traffic these days will blow the last three years out of the water, hands down). Making a fair profit is not difficult, considering the owner ensures the place is secure and attractive. I just keep my booth loaded but not packed so customers must dig through things. You can probably tell which venue I prefer for actual selling.
Not to toss the weekly live venue under the bus. Flea markets are better known for being a social venue. You figure the seller has a story or even good advice on how to use something, or you can find a nostalgic item or piece of old but solid technology as a conversation piece. Luckily, I can turn those conversation pieces into money and install new wares in its place. Yet, the social aspect is vital. I often find myself volunteering to assist other vendors. If they’re not in top form, it can trickle down my way as well. This is why the indoor area lives and dies according to the weather; commuters see other stalls, crowds, and full parking lots from the road before deciding to venture inside.
As a dark secret, I often find low-priced clearance-grade items such as playing card decks or simple board games that I use as a gateway drug for the co-op crowd. I charge a fair price there as well, but it’s nice to know that people will look around at other things besides just books and CDs. This isn’t the same as reselling since I have to make sure they’re presentable and intact, unlike outdoor vendors who embellish some plywood tables with stuff they had in a lot of cardboard boxes and plastic bins. They don’t want to haul it back and are often willing to make deals whenever you’re into bulk purchases. Sorting and cleaning items is expected of you at the co-op and the increased price offsets your labor demand.
In all, it’s not truly a dark secret. Sometimes, you find some NES controller. You could just resell it at a higher price, but you have to vett the thing first, then wipe away the sticky grime. This may require dismantling the device and doublechecking the circuitry. A simple controller, you say? If it turns out to be barely or even non-functional, people will remember you and spread stories. Never sell something you have no knowledge or stakes in. Likewise, if you are going to transfer it to another location, make sure it’s clean, presentable, and worthy of sale. A busted jewel case is aching to let the disc fly out when the buyer hastily opens it.
Anyway, this has been a very long day and I’m glad it’s over. Tomorrow, I will assemble the next few loads of merch, tidy up the den, and sleep a couple extra hours.