“He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you’re awake. He knows when you’ve been good or bitter, so be bitter for goodness sake.” – Bitter Ben stealing lyrics from a beloved child’s song and exploiting it for his Blog’s sake.
It was 85 degrees and sunny yesterday, which never happens in Seattle area, so we did what every Seattlite does on a nice day. We stayed inside, ate pizza and played video games all day. Just kidding. We decided to have a garbage, uh garage sale.
So, I out taking a nap in a chair, exploiting parents by selling useless toys to little kids for way too much money, when out of nowhere “Santa Clause” pulled up in his Ford Ranger with a topper.
He said he was there to teach me a lesson. He said that by the end of the garage sale, I would be paid a visit by three Ghosts, the Sol Ghost, the Pain Ghost and the Regret Ghost and that they would teach me the lesson of not selling toys for too much money at garage sales.
I scoffed at him when I saw that he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. “Shouldn’t you be at the North Pole working with Microsoft to make a new Xbox for me this Christmas?” I sarcasticed at him.
“Be careful with your words, young man. Naughty boys will get what they deserve.” but of course, I laughed in his face. He shrugged his shoulders, and tipped his head. “Okay..” he said before continuing to looking at some old tools (for his workshop I’m guessing).
After looking at things for a while, he came to me and said, “Your old fountain, how much would you like for it?” and I said, “That’s not for sale, old man, but for you, I’ll give it to you $50, even though it has a crack in it.”
He said, “This is a garage sale, man. How about $25 and can I come back to pick it up?”
“Fine,” I said, “but if someone else comes and wants it, I’ll sell it to them.”
He came back later, took pictures with my kid, and tried to pay me the $25. But my wife wouldn’t let him pay for it. I grumbled, and rumbled and had to help him lift it.
But I laughed at him as he left. Crazy old man. That fountain was worthless anyways. And those ghosts never paid a visit.
As we were cleaning up for the day, and counting the money, I felt my head. It was burning up. I went to look in the mirror. My head was a red as the Santa’s Red Suit. Arrrgghh! The Ghost of Sol! In the form of the red hot sun, burning my balding head. Dang it, Santa!
Later, as we finished cleaning up all the crap from the sale that people decided not to take from us, I felt soreness all over. My head, my back, my neck, my knees, my feet. Soreness everywhere. No pain ghost had physically haunted me, but my physical form sure was in Pain. Blast it again, Santa!
As I laid down my head for a long summer night’s nap, out on the lawn there arose a such a clatter, I arose from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window, I flew like a flash, Santa was next door at a garage sale, selling all the stuff he bought from us for twice the cash!
He made me Regret just like he promised and I got served, Santa said, “Naughty Boys always get what they deserve!”
And he flew off in his Ford Ranger with a topper. Dang it Santa!
Bitter Garage Sale Santa