The boyfriend and I came up with a novel idea:
Let's use the garage to park the cars.
Easier said than done. The garage was filled to the brim with boxes, just as it was at the rental.
The thing is, we never really intended on staying in Bakersfield long enough to unpack. Why go through all that hassle when we'd just be packing it up again in a few months? Oh sure, we'd signed a year lease, but that meant nothing.
At least, not to us.
We were so sure there'd be a white knight job offer any day now, and we'd be headed back over the hill to civilization, that we only unpacked what we immediately needed.
That was a year and a half ago.
So yesterday the task at hand was finally getting the cars into the garage. The garage has plenty of shelving, it just needed to be cleaned of all the accumulated cobwebs and dust.
So we started by moving everything out into the driveway where we could sort through everything and organize it.
That's when the crowd formed.
These people are like locusts at the slightest hint of a yard sale. Never mind that this wasn't a yard sale and there were no signs. Word had evidently spread of a "secret yard sale" and the next thing we knew, total strangers appeared out of nowhere and were rummaging through our stuff. And first in line was Jim and his gay dad.
"How much you want for the bikes?" one man asked.
Nothing! Nothing is for sale!
We were finally able to shoo everyone away, and quite a few left visibly angry. Jim showed back up a few minutes later with two large mimosas, a nice gesture which certainly made the job a little easier.
"If you do end up having a garage sale, just let us know first" he said.
You got it.
He came back later and invited us over for dinner. We hemmed and hawed and finally accepted.
That's a story for another day, trust me.
And, at the end of the day, the cars still haven't made it into the garage.
