Today we visited the thrift store down on main street. If you're from Valdese, you know the one I'm talking about. If you aren't, then just imagine.
It's been forever since we've been to the thrift store downtown, but they were having a 50% off sale, so Patti Anne says hey, let's go. So we went.
I don't really like the thrift store. It's depresssing. I always feel better going in than I do coming out.
The nicest part of the place is a landing (the thrift store mezzanine, I call it) where they have books and pictures on the wall, and places to sit. There's a downstairs, this landing, and an upstairs. And one of these places is not like the others, one of these places doesnt belong. Because it's not packed and cluttered, and there's room to sit and look at a book.
Books and pictures. The pictures first. I've bought some interesting pictures from thrift stores and none of these were interesting. Its like they were trying too hard to be nice. When I buy a thrift store picture, I'm not looking for nice, I'm looking for odd. Perhaps these people are into socialist realism, I don't know. Anyway. The books were a mixture of hardbacks & paperbacks, and I spent some time looking. I walked away with James Michner's "Alaska", and another kind of humor book who's name I can't remember. The Michner book looks like about 2,000 pages of small print, so I guess I'm in for it for awhile. 300 pages to him is a short story. Any story that starts with the shifting of continental plates is gonna have some detail. I think the two books together cost 75 cents - so can't beat the price.
But the place was soooooo depressing. It's really hard go get me to go there.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think of myself as being above shopping a thrift store, not at all. Sometimes you can find some nice and interesting things thrift stores & sometimes you can get a heck of a bargain. But this particular one, down on main street, is just bad for my mental health. I'll have to think about exactly why.
** the passage of about 2 seconds time **
Ok thought about it. It's the colors, lighting, the displays, the generally old clothes and stuff (and not old in a good way), a slight claustrophobic feeling, the cheap and old children's toys piled in boxes, nothing in the place is fun or interesting or even remotely nice. Except (for me at least), the books. If you're lucky, you can find a good book pretty dog gone cheap.