At the Glee Market

Sometimes, it's the little things in life.

Stock photo

Where does the time go?

First, let me apologize for my absence. I somehow managed to pick up sixteen new subscribers over the past few months and, while I’m grateful, I have no clue as to how it happened. To all my subscribers, new and old, I want to apologize for not being around as much as I had wanted/planned. The only excuse I have is sheer lack of ambition and drive. I think I partially burnt out on trying to keep up with my Kindle Vella writing (which also included more than its share of “marketing”) and a weekly post here on Substack. Either way, I will try to do better.

My goal in January was to write more, but we can all see how that went. I guess it’s never too late to start again, though.

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Anyway, I wanted to write about something that happened this past weekend that touched my heart. I say it like I’m surprised, but I guess I shouldn’t be because it involved the sweetest and kindest person I know.

My wife.

Last year she decided that she needed a “hobby” because she was tired of sitting around the house after work and on the weekends. Something to get her moving and motivated besides her job. So, she decided to develop a “side hustle” where she would buy old dolls (Barbie, Monster High, etc.) and stuffed animals, clean and refurbish them, and then sell them on Mercari (an eBay-type site) or donate them back to Goodwill or The Humane Society. I know, from past experience, that my wife isn’t a very savvy businessperson. She and her sister had a business when I first met her that failed (which wasn’t entirely their fault I should add), and I also know that she’s not the best with money. She would rather give something away than sell it which, of course, is never a great business practice.

Anyway, she got going and had made some money but the most important aspect for her was that she was enjoying it, and she has said it gave her a little more purpose in life. For her, it’s not really about the money but the act of selling. She just likes people buying what she’s putting up, even if she’s not getting as much as she could be from the item. She also gets a kick out of printing her own labels (one of her first investments was a barcode label maker). At first, I would remind her about getting the most for her time and effort but (of course) she would never listen, so I just let her go about it in her own way and keep my nose out of it.

Fast forward to about a month ago when she told me there was going to be a small flea market at a church the next town over and she wanted to buy booth space to sell some of her things. I told her to go for it before realizing this meant that I would have to help her with the travel and set-up. So, trying to be a supportive husband (Lord knows she supports my crazy ideas), I told her I’d be happy to help. OK, maybe not “happy” but at least I wouldn’t put up an argument.

Little did I realize this would mean getting up at 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday to set up the booth which consisted of folding tables and a pop-up sunshade tent she had bought the previous night and had never put together before. Setting up wasn’t so bad if you minus the mosquitos, the dark, and a table falling on my shin causing it to swell up like a softball.

After we got set up and the sun started to rise, I noticed that the church was a bit on the…older side. The surrounding neighborhood was also showing its age. I only bring this up to illustrate the fact that the people living here were not rich and, if I had to guess, I would say most weren’t even middle class. The people organizing the flea market as well as the people who came out couldn’t have been nicer, though. Talking to the pastor, I found out we were from the same area (Cincinnati) after he mentioned he was a Bengals fan. I made sure to give him my condolences. The couple in the next booth had a similar story to ours. The husband was just along for support while his wife sold seashell creations.

While I said my wife wasn’t a businessperson, that doesn’t mean she totally lacks business acumen. Quite the contrary. The church had a bounce house set up and my wife told me she had asked for a spot next to it in order to capitalize on the kid traffic that would potentially be coming by. And she was correct. Her booth was a pretty big hit with the kids. They, as well as grandparents looking for gifts for grandkids, stopped by to check out the toys, books, and DVDs.

After a bit, I went home to get us some coffee and put some ice on my shin. When I got back, I noticed that she had unloaded quite a bit of merchandise, so I asked her how much she had made.

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t really counted it yet”, she told me. I took that to mean she hadn’t sold as much as she gave away but, like I said, it was her show to run as she saw fit. I resolved to be secretly satisfied with her breaking even, making back the money she had spent on the booth space and canopy tent.

I guess she had quite a few visitors while I was gone because a bunch of kids kept coming back waving dollars and asking what they could get for them.

My wife, who has the biggest heart in the world, was in heaven.

She had a huge smile on her face when a child would ask how much something was (even though everything was stickered) and she would give it to them for half the price and throw in something like doll clothes, a small stuffed animal, or a book. One family came back four times, and you could tell they weren’t that well off, but they wanted to see what their dollars could get them. Of course, my wife would give them some extra items and you would have thought it was Christmas.

I think for her, it kind of was.

In the end, she managed to clear over $150.00 which I didn’t think was bad at all for her first foray into working a flea market. For her, though, the whole experience was priceless.

It’s always amazing how the smallest things can touch your heart in the biggest way and something as simple as a flea market can remind you just how wonderful someone is.

Until next time…