Oops, this was supposed to send Saturday morning.

The only thing worse than the ghost stall Paul describes, is the other
“ghost stall”, where you buy something large, awkward, or heavy, or two or
all three, ask to leave it for pickup later, and then at the hour of
departure, can no longer find the stall.  After spending time looking for
it, you realize you’ve passed it several times, not realizing the stall has
reconfigured due to selling so much stuff.

Kirk in Half Moon Bay, off to a citywide garage sale today north of me.
Wondering if we shouldn’t the phenom call it Bill’S Stall.



On Fri, Aug 19, 2022 at 5:29 PM Paul Gardner  wrote:

> >What's the term for spending the last hour searching for that table you
> >saw six hours ago and finally talked yourself into buying that one item
> >you passed on (provided it was still there) and can never find the table
> >again?
>
> I've heard tale of these "ghost stalls" before.  Story has it you come
> across them early, before sunrise, when the only thing guiding you is the
> dim setting (out of respect for others) of your headlamp LED.  These tables
> will typically be captained by some unusual salt with a name like Todd or
> summat  who imparts the uncanny feeling (despite repeatedly referring to
> himself as just a "slowhead") that  he knows way more about the item you're
> interested in than he lets on.  And if you try to lowball him on price, he
> may ask to examine it again, feigning ignorance, and then suddenly fling it
> further than humanly possible into an overgrown field or into the dark
> waters of the adjacent container ship canal... then gives you a knowing
> wink that leaves you both dumbfounded and terrified.  You make a vow to
> loop back later in the day and catch him when he's more desperate to deal,
> only to find you can't find the space again.

-- 
Sent from my iPad, apologies for the Auto Correct errors. Kirk


-- 
Kirk Eppler in Half Moon Bay, CA