Feeding Frenzy at The Hangar
Aug. 17th, 2009 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
errantemberSo after taking ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spottedvasa home up north after a great date, I headed over the the Goodwill Blue Hanger, the place where all the overflow from other Goodwills goes. Things at the BH are super cheap, most of them going between 25 cents and $10.00. I scored a sun barrier for the Metro, a Camel Back M.U.L.E. minus the liner (which I already have), a set of popsicle makers, a New International version of the Holy Bible, a non-stick baking pan, and a few other minor items for under $9 total. I also saw something I've never seen before.
Feeding time at the Blue Hangar.
I've never really been afraid of Hispanic grandmothers before, but when they dumped the new load of goodies, I Got the Fuck Out of the Way to preserve my personal safety.
The Blue Hangar is just that, a large hangar with rows of tables covered with completely disorganized stuff. You dig through it along with everyone else, hoping to find Something Great that they missed. The Great Deployment of New Items is the closest to military discipline that Goodwill employees will ever see. Runners go out to either side of the row to be replaced, herding everyone off those tables. The old tables are rolled out, and the new ones rolled in, while nervous employees reluctantly hold the line until the tables are in place. One woman attempted to sneak in before the starting gun was fired, and had to be verbally reprimanded before retreating back into the crowd. Once everything is in place, an announcement is made, and The Horde descends! In a culture of less polite people, things would clearly slip directly into violence in seconds. As it stood, the barest surface tension of civility prevented the outbreak of hostilities as scores of mothers, grandmothers, children, and clearly reluctant husbands physically attacked the steaming pile of Newness with a desperation rarely seen outside mobs retreating from teargas and rubber bullets.
It was at this moment that I realized it was ok for me to be disappointed that I couldn't *possibly* get any of the new stuff myself. These people were poor, I was not, and our respective levels of acceptable risk reflected this. Noting the sudden, total lack of anyone at the checkout counter, I decided that now was a good time to make my exit before I was confused with a gently-used Kitchen Aid food processor, and I, well, vamanosed.
spottedvasa home up north after a great date, I headed over the the Goodwill Blue Hanger, the place where all the overflow from other Goodwills goes. Things at the BH are super cheap, most of them going between 25 cents and $10.00. I scored a sun barrier for the Metro, a Camel Back M.U.L.E. minus the liner (which I already have), a set of popsicle makers, a New International version of the Holy Bible, a non-stick baking pan, and a few other minor items for under $9 total. I also saw something I've never seen before.Feeding time at the Blue Hangar.
I've never really been afraid of Hispanic grandmothers before, but when they dumped the new load of goodies, I Got the Fuck Out of the Way to preserve my personal safety.
The Blue Hangar is just that, a large hangar with rows of tables covered with completely disorganized stuff. You dig through it along with everyone else, hoping to find Something Great that they missed. The Great Deployment of New Items is the closest to military discipline that Goodwill employees will ever see. Runners go out to either side of the row to be replaced, herding everyone off those tables. The old tables are rolled out, and the new ones rolled in, while nervous employees reluctantly hold the line until the tables are in place. One woman attempted to sneak in before the starting gun was fired, and had to be verbally reprimanded before retreating back into the crowd. Once everything is in place, an announcement is made, and The Horde descends! In a culture of less polite people, things would clearly slip directly into violence in seconds. As it stood, the barest surface tension of civility prevented the outbreak of hostilities as scores of mothers, grandmothers, children, and clearly reluctant husbands physically attacked the steaming pile of Newness with a desperation rarely seen outside mobs retreating from teargas and rubber bullets.
It was at this moment that I realized it was ok for me to be disappointed that I couldn't *possibly* get any of the new stuff myself. These people were poor, I was not, and our respective levels of acceptable risk reflected this. Noting the sudden, total lack of anyone at the checkout counter, I decided that now was a good time to make my exit before I was confused with a gently-used Kitchen Aid food processor, and I, well, vamanosed.
