Estate Sale at Gullivers Pizza
This morning, with the extra day in the weekend, Liz and I went out for a late-morning breakfast at Lula Cafe. After that, we headed over to an estate sale that she had been to before (located at Gullivers Pizza), in the hopes of seeing what deals we might make on the last day of the sale.
She’d already been there once, viewing the items during a preview (and even acquiring a few things then). But according to her, the prices were high… and there was a great deal to look at.
The odd thing at the time was that the restaurant was still in operation, with folks dining while she wandered around looking at objects for sale. This would prove true for us as well, as we wandered around today.
On the walk up, the clouds were darkening in the sky. This whole weekend, we saw forecasts of rain and yet they never truly came until today. We were both happy for the good weather, and also cursing the good weather, as we would have structured our weekend quite differently had we known how nice it would be (and remain) outside.
Walking in to the outdoor cafe. Liz gave me a heads-up as to just how much was here and for sale. Definitely not your typical estate sale.
The outdoor area was covered in objects, done as decorations over the years. And pretty much every single item was for sale (either individually or as pairs).
Price tags everywhere. This was about 3 feet inside the gate.
Even large pieces on the wall, all for sale.
There were smaller obelisks and statuettes also for sale (located on the roof). A few looked to be a little precarious.
Interesting note: there were four other sets like this (two obelisks flanking a lion holding a shield), also positioned along the open rooftop.
The interior was just as overwhelming. While none of the tables and chairs were for sale, all the fixtures were. Every single light (And many of the items included in each booth) could be purchased.
Sometimes, you need a sign as a reminder.
A lot of tables were set up with items from another location (a movie theater I think).
Liz, pointing to one of the items she purchased last time (they didn’t have the tools available to remove it, so she came back to pick this guy up).
Outside, we debated these pieces… and ultimately submitted a writter offer. This was something that was a-typical of estate sales, where usually one can just barter with the person at the checkout. Here, we spoke to some assistants who flitted about… and if we wanted to propose an alternate price, we would dictate the amount and it would get written down on a paper “offer” slip.
From there, it was up in the air as to whether the person running the estate sale would respond positively to the offer. There was no time-frame. So a lot of unknowns.
There was some back and forth, and another offer on our part. And we ultimately paid less for the scroll workpieces than was asked. And Liz also got the price she wanted for the mirror she had wanted.
The scroll pieces were originally described as a pair, but we noted that they weren’t mirror images. And we found out later that they were part of a larger set.
Because they weren’t a true pair, we were able to talk them down a bit on the price.
Here’s the thing with our house, and the way that Liz and I are both approaching things at the moment. She’s able to visualize the future interior of the house – much better than I, frankly, am able to. Which is to say, I’m not able to do it very well at all.
Where I know she’s planning out a future design and order to our rooms, I’m viewing it as the introduction of more things into a realm where we are fighting to find free space. There’s a push/pull here, where I’m wanting to get things out of the house and us needing to start to bring more things inside.
I’m too focused on the work still to be done on the house, and have a hard time seeing what comes after. But I know Liz has a vision for things, and I trust her taste. And so there’s an internal struggle I have, to hold these urges to purge and reduce at bay.
As we were tallying up the bill, we spotted this piece sitting on a railing near the exit. The whole time we were there, Liz was convinced it had already been purchased. But on looking closer, we found that it was still for sale.
It wouldn’t be an estate sale if it didn’t involve some bit of haggling for every item, and I’m happy to say I was able to talk the assistant down another $15.
Every little bit counts, right?