“Stoop sale! Come getcha stoop sale!”
That’s what I’ve been screaming- in a horrible Brooklyn accent, mind you- out to everyone that passes by our stoop today. It’s a beautiful day in Brooklyn and my girlfriend and I decided to try our hands at selling some junk on our stoop. Actually, not junk at all. I’m selling a Philips 21 inch flat screen television that’s only about a year old. (The screen is flat but it’s not the super thin guy that you hang on a wall. You could do that with this bulky unit but you might look like you own a sports bar.) I’m also selling an old set of golf clubs and a bunch of belts. So far I sold all of my belts and a few button up shirts that I never wear. I sold a shirt that I only wore to a funeral and I hope that the new owner doesn’t do the same. I don’t know- it would be interesting to see some of these people walking around the neighborhood wearing my clothes. About a year ago I bought a great pair of shoes from a stoop sale a few blocks from our apartment and I constantly see the guy I bought them from. I always feel a little weird wearing his old kickers for some reason. There is absolutely no reason to be embarrassed to wear another mans trash. Like they say, “another mans trash is someone’s five to ten dollar purchase!”
I’m writing this Dear Diarrhea and as we speak an Asian man is handing over a crisp twenty to Jenny for my old 3/8-inch power drill. (Did I really have to tell everyone the man’s race? Sure, why not.)
Jenny is getting mad because every time people walk by I over-dramatically type into my laptop and say really loud- “So far our stoop sale has been going splendidly! I couldn’t be happier with the weather and how many goodies we’ve sold…”
I want Jenny and I to get into a big fake fight and make a scene so more people will check out our stuff.
Here’s a reenactment of the fight I want to have.
JENNY: I told you not to call me fart breath!
BOBBY: Why don’t you stop playing with my belts!? I won’t call you fart breath if you just leave my belts alone!
Jenny points to the price tag, which reads “$10″.
JENNY: You made these belts too expensive! I know they’re worth a lot more than ten dollars, but still! Look at these ridiculous prices?!
Bobby pulls out a massive sword from their sales table.
He rips off the price tag from the grip of the weapon with his teeth and spits it in the direction of Jenny.
BOBBY: Listen here, fart breath! These belts are priced to sell and I’m not gonna back down for any hagglers either! Not even you! I paid good money for these belts and they’re worth a heck of a lot more than ten dollars, too!
A crowd begins to gather to check out their shenanigans.
Bobby’s winks at Jenny and she takes his cue.
JENNY: Don’t you dare call me fart breath again!
Jenny grabs a box of broken and dusty birthday candles and throws them in Bobby’s face. It stuns him for a few seconds. The crowd begins to get nervous about the situation.
Their neighbor, who is a decorated security guard at Bloomingdales, pulls out a can of pepper spray and runs from across the street to the scene.
NEIGHBOR: Put the sword down, Bobby!
Jenny gives a little wink to the neighbor. Everything is going as planned.
BOBBY: Nobody move!
The crowd begins to get really nervous now.
Bobby screams and swings the sword at Jenny. A few people also scream and take cover.
Jenny ducks just in time and the sword slashes the price tag on the belt, and like a surgeon, slashes the zero right off the tag.
BOBBY: Well, I guess it’s time to SLASH SOME PRICES THEN!
Bobby breaks out a huge smile and goes into a wild ninja routine and starts slashing all of the price tags with his sword.
Jenny grabs the belt and holds it high in the air for everyone to see.
JENNY: Looks like we’re slashing these prices in half. Come and get your belts for only a DOLLAR now!
The audience is instantly relieved. The neighbor is still holding the can of pepper spray and has a stern look on his face.
NEIGHBOR: I guess I have no choice then!
He pulls the trigger of his pepper spray and then a bunch of party string goes flying all over everyone.
Bobby whistles up toward the roof of their building and then twenty or so balloons fall onto everyone as they rummage through the now amazing deals in front of them.
Bobby and Jenny end up selling all of their merchandise for exactly what they had planned in the first place. The stoop sale is an instant hit!
…THE END
Well, I can dream can’t I? I guess I’d better put my computer down and do some real price slashing now. Anyone want to buy a four pack of dog thongs for two dollars?