(no subject)
Flash back to last Sunday. I had a shopping bag stuffed with clothes to sell at Buffalo Exchange. But they can only buy from people who are 18 with a valid ID. So today I returned with my mother, armed with the hyperstuffed bag of fall fashions that I don't like anymore. Fingers figuratively crossed, I watched as the employee unfolded and refolded each item, scrutinizing it quickly and looking at the logo on the tag. Soon the bag was empty. "No," said the employee smugly. No? None of it? No. My mother and I were crestfallen. Couldn't they just buy a pity sweater? We're damn poor! We only buy the monthly essentials, groceries and gas, and we still don't have any money in the bank. I wanted to scream. There was nothing wrong with those clothes! They were in season, they were in perfect condition, they complied with the stupid fashions you see kids wearing these days... Fucking waste of our time. As my mom and I walked back to the car we saw a woman sitting outside of the Borders with a plastic cup of money. "Spare change?" she asked in a raspy monotone. "No," I said mournfully, "but I've got this bag of clothes," and I offered the bulging plastic bag of crap that wasn't good enough to sell. I asked her if she'd like them. "Yeah," she said, almost as though she'd said, "Duh." And she took the bag without looking at me or my mother. I thought she was going to rummage through the bag but instead she sat still and didn't say anything. Not even a thanks. I didn't fucking care, I was pissed and I wanted to get rid of those damn clothes. That cream cashmere sweater was a make-out dream, so soft to the touch it was meant to be worn while you're getting felt up, so light and elastic it was engineered for ease of removal and a quick toss onto the floor. And now it's probably gonna get used as toilet paper. (It won't fit on that woman unless she shrinks a hell of a lot.)
And I probably could have tried selling that shit at other stores. Hidden Treasures or something. Could have donated it. But I was pissed, and rationality often evades those who are pissed.
I hope that lady finds a good use for my clothes.
And I probably could have tried selling that shit at other stores. Hidden Treasures or something. Could have donated it. But I was pissed, and rationality often evades those who are pissed.
I hope that lady finds a good use for my clothes.