I came away with what I usually get at estate sales: small practical items that make me happy for almost no money, and a small vase that fits on the kitchen window sill. I go home, clean up the vase, and fill it with flowers. Easy peasy.
But we happen to be in the market for some furniture right now, and I was hoping to come home with something obscenely large, in teak. There wasn't anything really good at these sales, despite the description in the paper. It was like answering a personals ad and trying to fall in love.
I did that. After developing silly crushes and writing mash notes to sound men in nightclubs and being teased about it by one of the handsomest guys in show business (to whom I was chopped liver), I answered a personals ad.
I met the ad-placer at a hipster coffee house. We had an o.k chat, but he wasn't what I thought. Such a nice earnest guy, but not a happy one. He showed me his place and he had great instruments (including a Gretsch White Falcon), so we jammed for a while. He called later but I lost his number and met mr guy (an unadvertised find). A few months later on a 1:45 am beer and cigarettes run with mr guy, I saw the man from the ad. He was buying a fizzy water and a bottle of Sominex.
Like me, he probably met his person after that. Probably not through the ad.
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