Flea dirt

As a part of our new “Get out and see the world” initiative we took a little tour of a local and American pastime…the flea market. Visiting a flea market is like visiting another country. They have their own rules, dialect, and customs. As I wandered amongst the flea market stalls I noticed some of these customs and experienced some of the language and dialects. I’ll share some of them here with you.

- At the flea market it might appear that you are free to wander and peruse the wares, but as soon as you stop at a certain item or god forbid you pick one up the proprietor of the “shop” will appear out of nowhere sensing a possible sale. I have found this to be unnerving and weird. They seem friendly enough, but I really try to keep moving and not stare at anything longer than a couple of seconds.

- Everything either has a price tag that isn’t REALLY the price OR the things will have no price tags whatsoever. If you pay the price on the tag the word will spread fast and wide amongst the other shopkeepers that “There’s a live one in the house”. We found a military surplus purveyor that had tagged none of his things because his buddy said “He likes to talk, so it forces people to come ask him the price” This also means it gives the guy a chance to size you up and pick the correct price for you. Don’t be wearin’ yur best duds for this guy.

- Don’t be thrown off by the extra apostrophes and missing letters on the signs. This is put there to make you look twice at the sign’s and to lull you into a false sense of superiority. Don’t be fooled. These people know there bizness.

- Eight track tapes are still available for all you Mac Davis fans. Shoot me an e-mail and I’ll pick a couple up for you.