Shopping at the Swap Meet

The Antique Swapmeet was back in town at Vets Stadium this weekend and since I had nothing better to do, what with waking up at 5:00am for no reason on a Sunday after whooping it up the night before at the Jackrabbits MC awards party where I was awarded a gift card to the Crack House for all my hard work at making our 2009 Hare & Hound a rousing success, I decided to go and see what I could see and perhaps spend some money on stuff I didn't need and have no place to put and how's THAT for a run-on sentence, eh?

So I jump into the Red Rocket (it doesn't always look like this. Really.)

and off I go. I really didn't have anything in mind to look for, just whatever caught my eye, knowing full well that the odds of me heading home empty-handed were quite large. Especially since I didn't bring much money. You can't spend what you don't have, doncha know. After a short time, I realized that I did have a reason for being there and that was for yet another round of People Watching. Seriously, the Antique swapmeet is prime for people watching. Where else can you hear the punch-line of a conversation between 2 gay guys that went, "But you don't wear underwear!" or listen to a Jamaican Rastafarian speaking fluent Japanese with his "Jah mon!" accent? And there's always some interesting stuff up for sale so I had some good blog-fodder here.

Are you the King or Queen of Your Castle? Do you have delusions of grandeur? If so, then you must have this to remind your minions that they are in the Presence of Greatness:


And a Royal Person does not have plain, boring bathroom fixtures. Oh no. Only marble carved with the heads of lions will do. Nothing says "Class" like a lion staring out at your feet while you drop a deuce and then wash away the residue.

And Royalty always has plenty of jewels. What better way to let people will know you are a person of Wealth and Taste than by wearing this:

It weighed a ton so make sure you have servants there to catch you as you stagger under the weight of your Royal Attire.

There was the usual "Vintage Clothing" sellers. There's always some interesting finds mixed in with the usual Average White Band concert tees and old nightgowns:

If you're going to a disco party and need a floor length gold leather dress that zips completely in half, I'm sure we can find one for you.

Or maybe you're being shipped off to Band Camp:

Seconds after snapping this photo, I heard squeals behind me and was almost knocked to the side by the two gay guys who had just zeroed in on it. They had a lively debate about where they could wear the jacket and hat before realizing that only an anorectic would fit into it and anorectic was something these boys were not, I'm just saying.

Going to Vegas in the near future and need something to do? Perhaps this will help:

There was also a "How to Strip for Fun and Profit" book along with some "erotic" paperbacks that, based on the titles and cover photos, were just bad 1970's stag films turned into books. They were kind of funny in a creepy way.

And speaking of creepy, there was an abundance of things that were just, well, creepy. Like dolls. I don't like dolls. I did when I was a little girl and had a babydoll but since I've become a grown-up, dolls just give me a case of the willies. I so don't get women who collect dolls but they probably don't understand my collection of Del Taco calories so I guess it's a draw. So I'm walking along and and see that someone is selling a child in a coffin:

This doll was almost life-size and to see her (it) just laying in that box was just plain wrong. And creepy. But not as creepy she is:

She stares blankly across the aisles at THIS:

For some reason, I keep hearing Courtney Love singing "I am doll parts." But seriously, somebody is trying to sell old, dirty doll appendages and they put a $55 price tag on the bowl of arms. Yeah, good luck with THAT. "Some day you will ache like I ache."

When I was a little girl, my Gramma had a Sock Monkey that sat on her bed. For some reason, I was absolutely terrified of that damn monkey. Something about the eyes. So I know that I will have nightmares after seeing THIS monkey:

There's just something about the eyes, I tell you.

There was one more creepy thing I saw but this was creepy in a cool way. I think.

These remind me of those Victorian "Sleeping Beauties" portraits of dead people and by portraits of dead people, I mean portraits that were taken AFTER death.

There used to be a vendor that sold old funeral and mortuary items that would have been a good companion to these photos but I haven't seen that vendor the last couple of times I've gone. It was always odd to see an antique child's coffin, wicker body basket and embalming equipment right next to the stall selling old toys and dishware.

The last few times I've gone to the swapmeet, I've seen this portrait of an old Orthodox Jew titled "The Diamond Cutter:"

And every time I see it, I tell myself "Next time, if it's still unsold, I'm buying it." So, next time I go, I AM buying it. Next time.

By this time, I had walked every aisle and my hips, knees and feet were begging to be put out of their misery so I headed for the exit. I did end up buying one skirt (not "Vintage") that I will probably wear until it shreds.

Then I went home and plopped on the couch. I had gotten in my 10,000 daily steps and dammit, I had earned my rest.