Most of my friends are appalled I frequent the Swap Shop on a weekend basis. In fact, they think I’m
Most of my friends are appalled I frequent the Swap Shop on a weekend basis. In fact, they think I’m bat shit crazy for going to it. But the reason I go isn’t for the $1 hotdogs (my little bro pictured here with one) or the cheap steals or the ridiculously good people watching — it’s to hang out with my dad because it’s his favorite place on Earth.
Basically, dad’s been schlepping us to flea markets since we were in diapers. “I love the sun! And it’s great exercise! Ooh…did you feel that breeze?” he auto repeats as we walk down each marathon-like aisle. The truth? Homeboy loves to haggle over everything from — gasp — shoetrees (pictured here) to Makita drills. This photo was taken yesterday as he meticulously dissected this staggering pile for pairs for roughly 20 minutes. No lie.
“When it comes to flea marketing, half the fun is in the hunt,” he chuckles.
The little brother and I? Well, we love the people watching (namely the dudes in wolf T-shirts or dreadlocked beards) and poking fun at the crap people are selling. Honestly, where else can you unearth an original acrylic portrait of Abraham Lincoln for $20 or putrid-smelling chickens for $10 (pictured here with my son) in one spot? Exactly my point.
We also get thrills from dad’s finds. Yesterday’s shoetree victory was pretty epic but I have to say that the laughs and memories made during each and every trip are always tops and something to write home about.
A girl should be two things, classy and fabulous.