Okay, so Zule and I are in the process of getting things completely organized in our house. So, we decided to have a huge garage sale. HUGE! Cubic tons of stuff. But God hated our garage sale, probably, (if you asked my neighbors) because we are liberals as shown by our Yarmuth! yardsign.
First off, I wanted to lay out the stuff last night. I did not go to the trolley hop with my sister (who I've not seen in forever), and Dbot got to go instead. I carefully lay down tarps.. I organize the clothes. Zule walks up. "Honey its going to rain". GREAT! We get it back in the garage as best as possible, but (spoiler, this will figure prominantly later in the story) about five or ten items of clothing got wet.
We wake up at 6:30. Things go well until 9:30 when the police blocked off our neighborhood for some sort of marathon. Anyway, we made a few more sales after that. Including a sale of my champagne flutes to a lovely woman of color. (I did not know the following until ten minutes after it happened). Zule was the money man, so he was giving her change. My three year old points at her and says "Daddy, she's black". Zule is like "um, yeah". And Sweatone says (as clear as day) while pointing "I don't like black people". Zule's jaw dropped. The lady heard sweatone and must think she just bought KKK champagne flutes used to toast cross burnings or something.
The truth is, Zule and I are completely not racist, despite BAAL's constant harrassment of me in this blog calling me a racist. I'm not. Neither is Zule. Zule wanted to crawl into the earth after the statement and die. Jesus. Zule told Seaton he'd better not say anything like that again or he gets a time out.
So we sell our sectional couch. That was our main goal. So Zule and I call it quits. What we do every garage sale is the following: we have the garage sale, and the rule is, nothing can come back into the house. We take it to goodwill. I mean we were selling designer kids clothes 5 items to the dollar, and we still had two truckload (literally) of kids and adult clothes in great condition. My son's baby clothes etc. Any way, Zule takes the first truckload over to Goodwill. (there were two truckloads). The fair market value of the stuff was probably close to 1000 dollars, even at two dollars a pop, picture Hillfiger, Gap, etc.. We see that the rain is going to begin again, so in fairness to Goodwill we RUSH the first truckload over the goodwill. (the truck bed was a trifle damp so Zule put a tarp down first). When Zule showed up at goodwill, the woman at the donation center on Shelbyville Road, named Jackie, asked Zule "Are the clothes wet?" Zule says "No". She reaches in and apparently touched one of the five or ten actually damp items that we'd forgotten about (we just rolled everthing up in tarps and put it on the truckbed). She says "They're all wet we cant take this". Mind you, they were not. Included were 150 dollar roller skates Sketchers, etc, that Zule pointed out to her. No deal. Zule points out she's a lazy bitch and left. I am going to take this up with Goodwill, b/c I'm fucking mad, that's why.