You may have gotten the impression that everything is buddy-buddy-oaky-dokey-honky-dory between antiques pickers and sellers - the simple fact is, nothing could be further from the truth. There is a constant battle being waged underground, beneath all the smiles and hello's & thank-you's, and the following story serves to illustrate that point.
Many, if not most pickers who earn their living off garage and estate sales tend to resent the professionally organized sale, and, to a lesser or greater extent, those of us who organize them. And, for those who REALLY resent us, the ultimate weapon is the ability to knock down the street-level signage so important in directing the public to our sales. So lethal to our clients' revenue is this attack that some sale organizers actually chain their signs to posts, and in my case, my staff is instructed that, no matter how rude or intimidating a picker might be, they are always treated courteously, with a smile, and, when necessary (and most often when not) with apologies.
Nevertheless, you can NEVER please everyone, and that is where this story begins.
Once upon a time Timothy Loughmiller Estate Solutions was contracted to do a sale in a nice little semi-detached home. It was a nice clean home full of nice clean treasures, but also fitted with nice clean brand-new floors which my client didn't want damaged. So, for that sale, we asked that everyone remove their shoes (something I don't normally do) and advertised the request plainly.
Needless to say there was one or two grumbles, but everyone complied willingly, anxious to purchase the treasures within. I say everyone with the notable exception of one lone foul-mouthed picker, a man I'd never seen before, of whom it later became obvious that he could hold a mean grudge.
"Why the H--- do I need to take off my D--- shoes? he demanded as he blocked the door, raising the eyebrows of those trying to enter past his substantial girth. "Is this place so D--- special?"
I replied as calmly and plainly as I could (without any H's and D's) that it wasn't MY idea, adding that my client made the rules. That's when he became even more hostile after learning that the sale was professionally organized (my guess is that he then realized he was wasting his time, with no chance to get something for nothing). Anyway, after about 50 people squeezed past him, curteously depositing their shoes by the door, he relented, discarded his worn loafers, and entered.
I thought that was the end of it... how wrong I was THAT day.
The next thing I knew, he was shoving his way out the door, cursing my cashier, cursing the sale, cursing me, cursing whatever he might have deemed to have offended his dignity. I just looked at my cashier, who was standing there staring shell-shocked, shrugged, and guessed about what would happen next. I thought that I knew EXACTLY what was coming, but I couldn't have guessed as to the extent to which it would be escalated.
Retrieving MY shoes I located my car keys and took a little drive. Sure enough, I was in time to see him kick over one of my steel-framed signs. Stopping to pick it up and set it right, I followed his route and recovered five more signs from where they'd been kicked over, ripped down, or thrown into trash cans.
At that point I was beginning to get mad - but no real point to that, so I simply reset all the signs and returned to the sale.
A bit later on, looking out from the sale, I was shocked when I thought I saw his car drive by (perhaps on his way back from his anger management class). Repeating my drive of earlier that day, sure enough, he'd taken down more signs, some of which I could no longer find. Lucky for me I had spares, and was able to replace the missing signage.
Twice more this happened that day before he tired of the game, and twice more I reset the signs - extra work for me, but we depend heavily on our signage and I had no choice.
But, at the end of it all we had a great sale (despite the permanent loss of 10 signs), everyone else was nice, and I made new friends as I often do - of course, I tend to think they only like me for the stuff I sell them, but hey, that's okay, it's what I do.
As for Mr. Curse-a-lot, we haven't seen him since... but we're ready for him with courtesy, smiles and apologies (whether deserved or not, whether they help or not) and, oh, yes, with LOTS of extra signs!
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