Monday, August 13, 2007

This Ain't My First Rodeo General SUV

YeeHaw! I'm a rodeo queen! This morning I rode a blue plastic cafeteria chair for 90 minutes, and then I sat astride a hard blue plastic library chair for 90 minutes, and this afternoon I stayed atop a cushy pink wheelie chair for 120 minutes. And let's not forget that black Chinese contraption on which I remained mounted for 35 minutes. What's the big deal about 8 seconds, you namby-pamby celebrity bull-riding has-beens? I am a champion, my friends. And I'll keep on blogging till the end. Funny thing, my feet aren't even tired after my first day of work.

I had maybe 30 minutes to work in my room today. Yet I squandered 20 of it selling used toys out of the back of my LSUV. And by 'selling', I mean pleading with people to take them for free. We told #2 son to clean his stuff out of the living room the other day. He claimed there was not room in his room for his toys. Go figure! Then why do they call it a room, son? Anyhoo...he had a carload of stuff he says he has outgrown. He IS going into 4th grade, after all, and is now all about the computer games where people shout with Middle Aged accents, "...a severed head on a wooden pike!"

I accosted the first two colleagues with the line, " two have little boys at home. How would you like some toys for them to play with? Toys with little bitty pieces?" Man! You'd have thought I was offering them a severed head on a wooden pike. One shouted for both of them, "NO. We have plenty of toys at our houses." And probably crumbs much too small for the other Whos' mouses as well. Geez. How did she know how many toys the other lady's kid has? They must hold secret toy-playing parties without inviting me. They refused to make further eye contact, and would have pulled up roots and moved, except that we were bound by breakfast tabledom and for the first time to go through the buffet line first.

I caught the eye of an old friend from Lower Basementia, who agreed to a trial viewing. Not quite definite, and she was parked on the West Forty of Blacktop Acres, but enough to raise my hopes that I might, indeed, not travel back to Hillmomba with the entire clattering load of MegaBlocks, pirate ship, puzzle, giant dump truck, pop-up book, action castle, and marble runs with my OH SO AMPLE tail tucked between my sturdy legs. She promised to drive around to the East Forty before leaving to take a browse at my General SUV. I was wishing I had a visor thingy like Sam Drucker. And one of those big wooden pickle barrels, too, as long as I was wishing and all.

My next victims were Basementia bound. I snagged them right after the general session. To think that my 6 years of building better buddies in Basementia could swirl counterclockwise down the drain so quickly! One of them just looked at me. Another didn't even do that, though the 'hmpf' that she emitted much like a spindly tow-headed orphan whacked in the solar plexus with a leather soccer ball left no doubt as to whether or not she'd heard my offer. A third said hesitantly, " you have them here now?" I could see her mental 'DARN' when I confirmed that yes, as a matter of fact, they were right outside, three cars away from her LredSUV, and would be extraordinarily easy to load. She followed me out, and looked through that jetsam like a seasoned horse trader inspecting one of Mr. Haney's mounts. Then she said the most magical words I was to hear all day: "How much do you want for this stuff?" WHAT? It is free, my dear. Free for the taking. Just TAKE IT ALREADY! She chose a 6-foot wooden pirate ship puzzle, and the bin of piratey goodness with a bazillion accessories. Sweet Gummi Mary! I will avoid her for a week or two in case she has non-buyer remorse.

As soon as the booty was loaded into her LredSUV, here came my other client in her SblackSUV. We're SUV-drivin' fools around these here parts. She pulled up at an angle, not in a regular parking spot, ready for a swift get-a-way if the pressure to not-buy became too great. She came. She looked. She took the rest of my inventory! Double Sweet Gummi Mary! I'm a freakin' fantastic non-salesman. I should get the Non-salesman of the Year plaque, and the parking spot right by the front door. Yeah. I'm that good at not-selling.

Sorry...I got so carried away with being a Rodeo Champion and Non-Salesman of the Year that I didn't have much to tell you about my first day. That's just as well. It pales in comparison to my chair-riding, non-selling exploits. By cracky.


MrsCoach2U said...

What an genius idea, giving away toys. At our house they go out to the boat barn (used to be a cow barn, now the boat lives there)to be covered in dust and spiders until they finally find their way into the dumpster down by the lake in the middle of the night. There are always good intentions of donating them somewhere or putting them in the garage sale, much like everything else around our place.

Queen Of Cheese said...

Guess Who? I made a new blog! It's not great, don't break your fingers trying to get there.

Stewed Hamm said...

All that time you should have been working , and you're more concerned with dealing out of the back of your SUV. In sthe school parking lot.... in broad daylight!

Nice job, Fagin.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Is this dumpster thingy like the Island of Misfit Toys in the Rudolph claymation holiday show?

I'll find you.

For the record, it was hard freakin' work standing behind my SUV in the 103 degree heat. I swear, it nearly baked the new coat of black right off my lady mullet.

Redneck Diva said...

And sometimes Mrs. Coach is lucky enough to have a certain diva of the redneck persuasion go pilfering through her boxes and bags in the boat barn. I got Kady's Christmas dress and Easter dress from that boat barn!