They are the strongest army on earth and it is not even close. Perhaps of all time.
They are united in their approach and attack and, most importantly, understand what their mission is and they almost never fail.
They do not discriminate in this army with regards to age, race, gender, nationality, nothing. They will accept anyone and everyone, as long as that person or persons, know what the mission is.
Watching them from afar you gain a deeper appreciation for their strategy and their tactical approach.
This army also almost never speaks to each other and, from what I can see, they have no clear cut leader. They don’t need one.
Another thing you will notice, they do not carry weapons. Zero.
I know, you are saying to yourself, “Hurry up, Joe, tell us who it is.” I will but wanted first to make sure you understand how impressed I am by them.
They have no official name but I am giving them one — The Yard Sale Army.
My neighborhood had a yard sale this past weekend that started at 8 a.m., but around 7 a.m. they were already canvassing the hood the same way those sharks do in that Jimmy Buffett song, “Can’t you feel them circlin’, honey? Can’t you feel ’em swimmin’ around?”
I decided to walk around and see the army in action. There they all were. Head down, no smiling, just all business. I watched them just pick up every single item, put it down, pick it back up, and finally, put it down.
One car pulled up and parked. A lady got out, walked over to a table, looked, walked back to her car and said, “Wasted 5 minutes.”
I chuckled because she did all of this in about 15 seconds and the best part, her windows were rolled up when she said that to her friend.
They continued throughout the day with wave after wave. I had a lady park in my driveway.
“Excuse me, ma’am, I need to leave,” I told her.
“Oh, I am sorry, just give me 15 minutes,” she said.
The worst part was that I did. I watched her go over every single item at my neighbor’s house as if she had discovered the Ark of the Covenant.
She actually only needed about three minutes and was gone. I left for about two hours and came back and now they were everywhere. On a Friday. It was Grand Central Station and it was glorious. This must have been round two of the attack, the lunch crowd, I guess.
At this point, I am convinced no one works anymore. I had to talk to someone about this fascinating sub-culture I had no idea existed. I found a husband and wife and asked, “Do you guys hit up a lot of yard sales?”
“Every chance we can get.”
“What is the best thing y’all have ever come across?”
“We love salt and pepper shakers and a few years ago, we found a vintage one at a yard sale for fifty cents.”
“Salt and pepper shakers? A vintage one? How many do you guys have?”
“We stopped counting.”
I then had to ask. “Do you have any Salt-N-Pepa CDs?”
I laughed. They laughed and then the lady said, “Well, we need to get going. More yard sales to get to today.” It was the polite way of telling me to, well you know, get lost. Which I absolutely loved.
The Yard Sale Army. Be all you can be. Until the next one.