Car Boot Sales............
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badpenny
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Car Boot Sales............
Do you remember when Car Boot Sales were worth going to?
Nowadays they just seem to be 60% sheer tat and 40% brand new tat!
I hadn't been near one since I used to let them onto my pub car park, but today I allowed myself to be persuaded into freezing my najjers off at one a few miles away.
We'd only been there a few minutes before Doff's fingers turned white and the tips of my ears dropped off.
I'd been struggling down a line of stalls gazing admiringly at the never to be repeated bargains ...........
Toasted sandwich makers ......... rusty drill bits ........ packs of AA batteries you've never heard off........ Groetchen Columbia ....... old toys ......racks of clothes any charity shop would reject .........
HANG ON !!!!
I trampled children under foot and body charged old people out of the way in order to retrace my steps back two tables.
Yup, there was a pretty little Groetchen Columbia perched on the end of a table.
I decided to be wise and not show how keen I was. With subtle cunning I feigned interest in a set of edible underwear, whilst squinting sideways.
The castings were perfect, the cabinet was original with its Churchill decal showing.
To buy more time before I showed my hand I was now fondling a red satin basque as well, the only thing I couldn't control was my dribbling, this machine had been well looked after.
The lady of the stall started to come over to enquire if she could help me, but as I reached for the diamnante suspender belt, she changed her mind and sent her old man over instead.
"Can I help you mate?" He enquired, his voice heavily laden with caution.
The look on his face seemed to say "I get up at 6.00 am on a Sunday morning to deal with the likes of this!" Perhaps he'd guessed that I was a slotty.
I decide it was time I came clean.
Excitedly hugging the frillies to my chest I asked him to tell me about The Groetchen.
He looked genuinely taken aback. "Who's Gretchen?" His voice had a tone to it that reminded me of panic. I released my grip on the items I'd been pretending to be interested in, so I could point, they were snatched in mid fall by his wife and put well out of my reach.
"This machine" I clarified. "What can you tell me about it?"
If he'd looked confused before, now he looked completely bewildered. Luckily Doff turned up in time to give me a character reference.
"He's methodically filling my house up with junk." She explained. "We sleep in the cupboard under the stairs now." She complimented me.
Anyway cutting the story short it turned out that he'd had the Columbia over ten years, knew nothing about it, but thought it needed a new spring on the handle as it was floppy.
I whipped it apart and discovered the mech was seized, it was lacking the bolting system that holds the mech in place, the cash box was missing, a homemade arrangement had been added to divert coins from the overflow back to the payout tray, and the double jackpot was missing.
I hummed and sucked my teeth a lot, before asking how much he wanted for it.
The St.John's Ambulance people were very kind and their hut was nice and warm. Their tea was a bit sickly but I think they put lots of sugar in it deliberately, does it help treat shock?
They explained to Doff it was probably nothing more than a reaction to the cold, and asked if I'd had any breakfast before coming out.
She explained it probably wouldn't have made any difference if I'd consumed a stuffed swan before venturing forward that morning, she was sure the clue to my having gone horizontal was in my repeated high pitched exclamations of ... seven hundred pounds ... did you say seven hundred pounds?
Doff poured me into the car and drove me home, one good thing came out of it though. Whilst they were waiting for the St John's people to get their stretcher the lady on the stall slipped her their card and told her they knew where to get lingerie that would fit even my bulky frame.
Nowadays they just seem to be 60% sheer tat and 40% brand new tat!
I hadn't been near one since I used to let them onto my pub car park, but today I allowed myself to be persuaded into freezing my najjers off at one a few miles away.
We'd only been there a few minutes before Doff's fingers turned white and the tips of my ears dropped off.
I'd been struggling down a line of stalls gazing admiringly at the never to be repeated bargains ...........
Toasted sandwich makers ......... rusty drill bits ........ packs of AA batteries you've never heard off........ Groetchen Columbia ....... old toys ......racks of clothes any charity shop would reject .........
HANG ON !!!!
I trampled children under foot and body charged old people out of the way in order to retrace my steps back two tables.
Yup, there was a pretty little Groetchen Columbia perched on the end of a table.
I decided to be wise and not show how keen I was. With subtle cunning I feigned interest in a set of edible underwear, whilst squinting sideways.
The castings were perfect, the cabinet was original with its Churchill decal showing.
To buy more time before I showed my hand I was now fondling a red satin basque as well, the only thing I couldn't control was my dribbling, this machine had been well looked after.
The lady of the stall started to come over to enquire if she could help me, but as I reached for the diamnante suspender belt, she changed her mind and sent her old man over instead.
"Can I help you mate?" He enquired, his voice heavily laden with caution.
The look on his face seemed to say "I get up at 6.00 am on a Sunday morning to deal with the likes of this!" Perhaps he'd guessed that I was a slotty.
I decide it was time I came clean.
Excitedly hugging the frillies to my chest I asked him to tell me about The Groetchen.
He looked genuinely taken aback. "Who's Gretchen?" His voice had a tone to it that reminded me of panic. I released my grip on the items I'd been pretending to be interested in, so I could point, they were snatched in mid fall by his wife and put well out of my reach.
"This machine" I clarified. "What can you tell me about it?"
If he'd looked confused before, now he looked completely bewildered. Luckily Doff turned up in time to give me a character reference.
"He's methodically filling my house up with junk." She explained. "We sleep in the cupboard under the stairs now." She complimented me.
Anyway cutting the story short it turned out that he'd had the Columbia over ten years, knew nothing about it, but thought it needed a new spring on the handle as it was floppy.
I whipped it apart and discovered the mech was seized, it was lacking the bolting system that holds the mech in place, the cash box was missing, a homemade arrangement had been added to divert coins from the overflow back to the payout tray, and the double jackpot was missing.
I hummed and sucked my teeth a lot, before asking how much he wanted for it.
The St.John's Ambulance people were very kind and their hut was nice and warm. Their tea was a bit sickly but I think they put lots of sugar in it deliberately, does it help treat shock?
They explained to Doff it was probably nothing more than a reaction to the cold, and asked if I'd had any breakfast before coming out.
She explained it probably wouldn't have made any difference if I'd consumed a stuffed swan before venturing forward that morning, she was sure the clue to my having gone horizontal was in my repeated high pitched exclamations of ... seven hundred pounds ... did you say seven hundred pounds?
Doff poured me into the car and drove me home, one good thing came out of it though. Whilst they were waiting for the St John's people to get their stretcher the lady on the stall slipped her their card and told her they knew where to get lingerie that would fit even my bulky frame.
Last edited by badpenny on Tue Dec 18, 2007 1:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Bent Copper
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- Location: UK
Re: Car Boot Sales............
I know the feeling.Badpenny wrote:To buy more time before I showed my hand I was now fondling a red satin basque as well, the only thing I couldn't control was my dribbling .
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malcymal
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- Location: Bognor Regis, West Sussex, England
Re: Car Boot Sales............
What a great story!. Carboots, ah the once fruitful pastime whereby bargains could be found. Nowadays its full of dealers selling and buying. Christ, i even had one cheeky son of a *&^% open my car door to rummage through when i was queuing up once to sell. What do we take to carboots these days, if we cant sell it on ebay, it goes to the boot fair, so its cheap tat. Buyers are no longer after something genuine for themselves, they are looking to punt it on through ebay, so once a fruitful venture i think is a dead entity.
I do get amusement from selling to dribbling collectors though, the collectors (dealers) are always the ones milling about the hot dog stand at 06:00 who stare through the back of your car when you come in. They often have bags over their shoulders, the record collectors are the ones with flat bags. The record collectors are probably the most fittest, probably from dancing to their vinyl. They sprint around in zig zag patterns from stall to stall "got any records, got any records"... "YES, I DO, i have this really rare Who album, only available for six months in the UK" drool, salivate.... " I might sell it later"
Queue my amusement putting out some old dinky cars, i waited for the vultures to home in to peck out my eyes.
"how much for that battered old tank mate"... "oh, you mean the 1960s Dinkey saladin armoured car, ummm, a tenner" "I will give you £6", i reply "make it £11" ...splutter....what..... Always a good one to reply to offers "tell you what, its early, if its still here in a couple of hours you can have it for what you offered" plumes of smoke erupt, dealer walks off, hovers around, comes back and pays what you asked for.
Another great joy of mine, is to put something into the back of my car which is really peachey, something like a red herring, a boxed vintage toy (not in sunlight of course so not to damage the plastic). Park the car up, and not get stuff out, have a walk around the other stalls, infuriates the dealers.
I know how it is when you see something that is a genuine and valuable piece.... especially if its from a seller who has 2 children with them crying cause they are freezing and they want chips, "we aint got no bleedin money, shuddup"...What i should of said "hello there, how much for that rather valuable box of 16 vintage carded action figures youve got there?" instead "oh, i remember these when i was a kid, yes, common now, get em on ebay for a couple of quid, my kids would love to rip these open and play with them".. "i would buy them, but ive only got £18.50 in cash in my wallet" "You can av-em luv, shut these two up wont it"... OKAY, kaching...... next store, reach for extra cash contained in other pocket.
Car boots, love em or loathe em, extremely rare to get anything decent these days. I also love the complete numptiness of some dealers who think that valuation guides are gospel and hence wish to sell premium price antiquities on a pasting table, whilst they dribble the onion from their burger imported from the korean dangerous food stuff company, all over their wares...
I do get amusement from selling to dribbling collectors though, the collectors (dealers) are always the ones milling about the hot dog stand at 06:00 who stare through the back of your car when you come in. They often have bags over their shoulders, the record collectors are the ones with flat bags. The record collectors are probably the most fittest, probably from dancing to their vinyl. They sprint around in zig zag patterns from stall to stall "got any records, got any records"... "YES, I DO, i have this really rare Who album, only available for six months in the UK" drool, salivate.... " I might sell it later"
Queue my amusement putting out some old dinky cars, i waited for the vultures to home in to peck out my eyes.
"how much for that battered old tank mate"... "oh, you mean the 1960s Dinkey saladin armoured car, ummm, a tenner" "I will give you £6", i reply "make it £11" ...splutter....what..... Always a good one to reply to offers "tell you what, its early, if its still here in a couple of hours you can have it for what you offered" plumes of smoke erupt, dealer walks off, hovers around, comes back and pays what you asked for.
Another great joy of mine, is to put something into the back of my car which is really peachey, something like a red herring, a boxed vintage toy (not in sunlight of course so not to damage the plastic). Park the car up, and not get stuff out, have a walk around the other stalls, infuriates the dealers.
I know how it is when you see something that is a genuine and valuable piece.... especially if its from a seller who has 2 children with them crying cause they are freezing and they want chips, "we aint got no bleedin money, shuddup"...What i should of said "hello there, how much for that rather valuable box of 16 vintage carded action figures youve got there?" instead "oh, i remember these when i was a kid, yes, common now, get em on ebay for a couple of quid, my kids would love to rip these open and play with them".. "i would buy them, but ive only got £18.50 in cash in my wallet" "You can av-em luv, shut these two up wont it"... OKAY, kaching...... next store, reach for extra cash contained in other pocket.
Car boots, love em or loathe em, extremely rare to get anything decent these days. I also love the complete numptiness of some dealers who think that valuation guides are gospel and hence wish to sell premium price antiquities on a pasting table, whilst they dribble the onion from their burger imported from the korean dangerous food stuff company, all over their wares...
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