Not Good Enough for Wasteland

I have a friend who resells anything she doesn't want. She has a house, two kids, a working husband and a nanny. She's not poor, just financially savvy. She's super resourceful with her clothes, appliances, baby toys and equipment. She's constantly reselling things on craigslist. The other day at work, we were talking about spring cleaning - meaning cleaning out the stuff we no longer wear anymore. My friend suggested that I stop being lazy about the way I get rid of things. To add insult to injury, she said, "You don't even have kids. You have time to make some money off your clothes." Ouch! She suggested I take my stuff to a second-hand store to resell it, rather than donate it to the Goodwill or to whatever wandering soul walks by the dumpster in front of my apartment.

I guess I am sort of picky about how I spend my days off. I don't like to waste my hours driving around Santa Monica; finding parking; putting quarters in the machines; standing in line, watching a store manager pilfer through my well-worn threads. You get the picture....

But, on Monday, my friend's words resounded in my head. I put a few items in the back of my car, and drove to Wasteland. As I walked into the store, I went straight to the counter and signed in my "arrival time." Instantly, I had an apprehensive feeling, not unlike the nervous feeling one gets while signing in at the physician's office, ten minutes late for an appointment.

I sat on the bench and waited for a "buyer" to become available. This time I was strategic because last time I went to Wasteland, I resold a cool red windbreaker back to the store for $8.00, and left with two sweaters (nearly $60.00). Maybe that's why they call it wasteland.

After about five minutes, my name was called. I unloaded my bag onto the counter. Then, I stood there while the "cool girl" cast judgment upon my potential treasures.

"I am sorry, I can't buy back anything today, said the cool girl. "You might want to trek them down to Crossroads, and after that, the Goodwill."

Gee, Thanks. And Double-OUCH! Total loserville! I packed up my garments and walked right past Crossroads and straight to the Goodwill, knowing that my 35-year-old ass could not take a second round of rejection from, yet another, "cool girl."

The thing that gets me about all of this is that one of "the outfits" in my donor bag was the one in the picture above. Pretty sexy, right? Something tells me that I would have made a few dollars if I had just posted this photo on craigslist, rather than literally doing the leg work myself. When I look at this photo, I can't help but think, "What a waste ... for Wasteland."