just like a porn star

So we had a garage sale this weekend, in an effort to get rid of stuff and make some money. We had some utterly crazy folks over the two days--people who were waiting in their cars in front of our house at 6:30 AM (the sale didn't start til 7:30!), etc. On Friday morning, I left the porch to take a shower while Shannon manned the sale. Apparently, he got a lot of business while I was gone, but none so interesting as the guy I'm about to describe.

You all will recall the Clone A Willy Fiasco of December, in which I was mistakenly shipped a, well, Clone a Willy kit. It took months to resolve and in the end, Amazon and its partner company didn't end up demanding the kit back, so it has happily spent months in Casa 921. The garage sale seemed like a good opportunity to unload it, so I set it up by the electronics and the kitchen stuff.

At any rate, a man at our sale was pretty intrigued by the kit and was asking Shannon questions about it, saying he was going to a bachelor party and wouldn't this be a funny joke, etc. A few minutes later, he asked Shannon if we had any dirty movies for sale. No, no we didn't. Still later, he asked Shannon if by chance we had a cord for a vibrating mattress? He had purchased the mattress at another sale and it didn't come with the power cord. Sadly, Shannon told him, we did not have the cord for the vibrating mattress. The man eventually passed on buying the Clone a Willy kit.

Instead, he bought my old swimsuit.