Dream of: 26 July 1998 (2) "Sale"
Carolina and I had stopped at a house where we had seen a sign in the front yard that a sale of some sort was going on inside the house. Once we were inside the large ranch-style brick home, we found the rooms packed with personal belongings for sale. I joined the other people avidly sifting through the goods, searching for something of value. Carolina went off on her own to see what she could find.
It appeared that whoever lived here had a penchant for collecting things. Groups of different items were clustered all through the house. For example, stacks of comic books and Life magazines were assembled in several different areas. Also small groups of figurines were displayed in sundry locations. One small bevy of plastic figures was sitting on the floor next to a wall. Three of the figures looked like some kind of space monsters with particularly grotesque heads.
The house also had a large basement which was likewise stuffed with things for sale. As I roamed through the roomy basement, I met the woman who lived here in the house. She was a tall slender creature (probably in her mid 30s) with dark brown hair. I stepped up to her and told her someone in this house must be a collector. She seemed not to understand what I meant. From all the different items in the house, obviously someone in this house liked to collect things. I figured the things being sold were just the stuff she didn't want to keep anymore. Getting rid of excess possessions made good sense to me. Part of the secret to collecting was learning to dispose of all the junk which can be amassed and just keep the best parts of the collection. I knew that I myself, with Carolina, had recently had a garage sale and sold off many possessions which we had accumulated. It had been such a relief to get rid of everything.
The woman, however, didn't seem interested in talking about all the things she had for sale. She was much more interested in telling me about the house, which was also for sale. She began by discussing the water system, which had a problem. Standing next to her was a large upright cylindrical device which looked like a hot water heater. Attached to it was a complicated array of metal tubes and instruments which the woman began describing. She explained that the water lines would sometimes become clogged up, and that this instrument was designed to clear up the lines. I had heard about this kind of problem with water systems and told her I was under the impression the problem only existed with one percent of homes. She sadly agreed with that statistic, bemoaning the inclusion of this house in that one percent. I thought it must be hard to admit the problem with the water existed, especially if she were anxious to sell the house. Surely the problem would lower the value of the house.
I wondered just how much money she wanted for the house. Carolina and I might be interested. This house was definitely much larger than our house, which had 2,200 square feet. This house must be well over 3,000 square feet. I would definitely like to have a large house such as this one. First, Carolina and I would have to sell our house, but I didn't envision that as happening anytime soon. Nevertheless I would like to know the price of this house. It wouldn't be difficult to move here; this house was only a few blocks from where we already lived.
Instead of finding out more about the house itself, I became distracted when I saw a box of old LP record albums sitting nearby. Wondering if the box might contain any old movie soundtracks, I hurried toward it. Just before I reached the box, a man and a little girl stepped up to it and began going through the albums. Not wanting to crowd in on them, I stepped back and remembered I had already seen some record albums sitting around a couple other places in the house, and I headed off back upstairs to look at the other albums.
However when I found another stack of albums and began going through it, I was disappointed to find nothing of interest. Obviously the albums had been picked through and anything of interest had been taken. I reflected that it was already late in the day, and that the only way to find anything good at these kind of sales was to come early in the morning. I remembered that Carolina and I had passed by this house earlier in the day and had seen the sale sign in the yard, but we hadn't stopped until much later when we once again saw the sign. Of course now it was too late to find anything good.
I walked back down to the basement to see if the man and little girl had finished looking at the box of albums. They had. When I looked through the box, again I was disappointed. All the box contained was children's albums which had no interest for me. Again I began looking around the room at the myriad objects.
My eyes fell on a small wooden table with some small metal figurines, only about a centimeter tall, sitting on it. When I walked over to the table and touched it, the table abruptly collapsed to the floor and all the little figurines fell off. I now saw that two of the legs of the table were missing and that one side of it had simply been propped against the wall. I didn't think it was my fault the table had fallen over. Nevertheless I knelt down and picked up all the little metal figures and laid them on another table with other figurines.
When I saw the woman who owned the house walking toward me, I was afraid she would be upset about the fallen table, but she didn't seem concerned at all. She again wanted to talk about the house being for sale, and since I was still interested in finding out more about the house, I asked her why she was moving. She seemed slightly disconcerted by my question, but she began relating what seemed to me like a rather bizarre story. She explained how her young daughter (whom I imagined as 6-7 years old) had had an argument with another little boy in the neighborhood who was about her same age. As it turned out, the father of the little boy was some kind of Mafia hood, and the boy's father had threatened to harm this family. Now in fear, the family had decided to move. They weren't going to tell anyone where they were moving, but she did mention they would be living close to a "hangar." I thought she must be referring to an airport and I concluded either she or her husband worked with an airlines.
Just then the husband of the woman stepped up. He first spoke to the woman and then turned to me. Abruptly he told me a young girl had traveled a great distance to come to this sale. Apparently the young girl had been standing next to me as I had been looking at some of the items in the basement, and she had detected some body odor from me. She had complained to the man about me, and she had even indicated she was going to leave if I remained.
I was shocked. I found it hard to believe I had any body odor. I bathed almost every day, and if I hadn't bathed today, I was sure I had bathed yesterday. I was wearing a black tee shirt and a jacket which was hanging open. I turned my head to the side and sniffed to see if I could smell any odor. I couldn't smell anything, but still I felt miserably embarrassed and I thought the best thing I could do would be to find Carolina and leave.
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