March 15, 2010

If I had my camera with me on our family trip to the flea market on Saturday, you could join my pity party for the fabulous find I missed.

We were about to leave when I saw this great architectural piece.  It was standing up against a pole, taller than me, paint chipping off everywhere and in desperate need of a home.  It had three empty squares, where I knew there were once mirrors.  My jaw dropped several inches and I stopped and began a very animated, one sided conversation about the possibilities of that piece with my 16 year old son.  Like he cared.  "Oh my gosh.  Look at this, Jackson!  Do you know what I could do with this?  I could use it over my headboard.  I could use it for headboard.  I could put litte frames in it.  I could put a mirror in it.  Oh I love it!"  

"How much are you asking for this?"

"$25.00", said the man.  "It's an old piano mirror piece but the mirrors broke out.

Twenty five dollars?  Twenty five dollars!!??  
Oh my.  What a steal! 

As if on cue, hubby appeared looking somewhat flustered with Wild Man Weston (our six year old).  Both were clearly ready to leave.

I asked the man if he would be there tomorrow.  Why I didn't pay for the item right there, I'll never know.  I knew I couldn't take it with us because it would never fit in my car since we were all out for the day.  Normally, I can just put the 3rd row seats down but, with the entire family of five out for the day, I couldn't.  Still, I could have returned Sunday to retrieve it.

So on Sunday morning, I had a lengthy phone conversation with my mom about my flea market finds, the things she has decided to buy for her house in SC, etc  when I realized how crazy I was that I didn't get that piece.  I decided right then that I was going back and I needed to hurry.  


Brush teeth.  Put deodorant and bra on.  Do NOT take take the time to shower.  It's the flea market.  A little lip gloss and sunglasses and nobody will even notice that I practically just rolled out of bed.  Shoot...I have to stop to get gas in my car.  Darn.


The flea market is 30 miles away so I can't get there quickly enough.

You know the rest of the story.  It was gone.  Sold.  Here's the kicker.  It sold to a man who owns a shop that has GREAT stuff.  I have bought a number of things from them over the years.  And as I was brushing my teeth Sunday morning to go down and get my lovely find I thought to myself, "I cannot believe the people at Revival (name of shop) haven't come along and scooped that up."   And so they did.  I jinxed it!  Kicker number 2.  I approached Jodi at Revival about this piece that "Randy", the man outside, had just sold them and inquired as to how much they wanted it for.  I would have paid significanty more than the $25 at this point.  One, because clearly Revival needs to make a profit and two, because now I REALLY wanted it.  Nope.  They do not want to sell it.  UGH!

Have you joined my pity party?   Thanks for coming.  It's always better when a friend understands.

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