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THERE'S A REASON
IT'S CALLED 'USED'
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"We're going to be rich!" I exclaimed to my wife as I
scanned the lineup of furniture my sons and I had moved to the garage.
"Cash will be pouring in soon."
"I'm not sure it's worth as much as you think," she
cautiously answered, as she is prone to do. "Second hand furniture has
its drawbacks."
Debbie Downer wasn't going to damper my enthusiasm. This was
nice stuff. An armoire, some cushy armchairs, end tables, an entertainment
center cabinet, a dining room table with 6 chairs, a six-burner barbecue,
some floor lamps---it was a veritable smorgasbord of lovely furniture that
was just waiting for some sucker to pay an inflated price.
It's a long story as to how we came across this goldmine.
Suffice it to say that the furniture had been in storage for almost a year
and a global pandemic forces almost everyone to find new ways to generate
cash.
It was all going to be so simple. I'd just call a consignment
store and they'd bring over a truck and happily load our fine furniture and
take it to their store. They would charge me about 50% as their commission,
but that's okay. Their eternal gratitude would add to my satisfaction.
"Take some pictures and email them to me," said the
nice lady on the phone when I described the bonanza she was about to
receive. "We'll let you know what we're interested in. And I can tell
you now that we won't take the armoire or the entertainment center. They
don't sell."
That dampened my enthusiasm a bit. But only slightly. I
dutifully took the pictures, making sure I got just the right angles, and
sent them off. Then I waited for the call where she would beg me for
forgiveness and plead to take everything.
After two days of waiting, I called her. "Did you get the
pictures?" I meekly asked.
"Yes," she replied with absolutely no enthusiasm.
"We might be interested in that end table with the ornate handles. Can
you tell me if there's any scratches on the top?"
I didn't answer, because I was pretty sure it had plenty of
scratches. Otherwise, IT WOULD BE NEW! Instead, I asked her about the other
items, all of which she had an excuse as to why she wouldn't touch them with
a ten foot pole.
"The consignment stores lack vision," I explained to
my wife when I told her they only wanted one measly piece of our collection,
and that came with a condition. "They'll rue the day they passed up
this opportunity."
Next up was online selling. More work, but higher profits.
Knowing nothing about it, I recruited my son-in-law to place the ad and
handle the calls. I envisioned a line down the street, social distancing of
course, waiting to get into our garage and eager to join the bidding war.
"$350 for a dining room table and six chairs?" I
cried when my son-in-law told me that's what he accepted from some woman.
"She fleeced you!!"
"Considering she's the only one who answered the ad, I
figured it was wise to accept," he replied. "I think you have
unrealistic expectations as to what second hand furniture is worth."
Apparently, he was correct. My cash grab was dwindling by the
moment. No one called on the six-burner barbecue (which has definitely seen
better days) but my son-in-law did say the woman was interested in the
armoire.
"Ha!" I shouted. "Wait until I tell the
consignment store lady. Armoires are not dead!"
My son-in-law wasn't quite as giddy. "She said she'd take
it off our hands, but she wouldn't pay anything for it."
It was becoming quite clear that I wasn't going to be as rich
as I thought. As my wife shook her head with that I-told-you-so look that I
see way too often, my next call was to the Salvation Army.
"If I'm not going to be rich," I explained as I
picked up the phone, "I'll at least be charitable. The poor and needy
will certainly appreciate our furniture."
The Salvation Army man answered the phone right away and I told
him about all of the wonderful gifts I had for his noble cause. He didn't
seem very excited. In fact, he told me they were very busy and couldn't pick
anything up for at least three weeks.
"And by the way," he added, "we don't want the
entertainment center. We can't sell those things."
I couldn't even give it away. I just hope the dump fee is less
than what I got for the table. Gotta stay positive.
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