Our yard sale this weekend wasn’t a huge success, not by any stretch of the imagination. My gross income totaled a grand $21 and a scarlet sunburn to boot.
Still, there were two things that made it all worth it in my mind.
First, was that J--- sold her Vespa. She and D-- had bought it for $1,500 in Colorado ten years ago. It had 5,000 miles on it. Baby blue with some wear on the leather, double seat for hot dates and a compartment beneath the main seat perfect for a six pack of beer.
As soon as she rolled it out there was a lot of interest. She was selling it for $500, a steal, with the lock, two helmets, oil and cover included! But everyone was trying to haggle her down. $300 cash now, $350 cash in a little bit... and so on and so forth. She got numbers gave out numbers and then these two brothers came up. They were young. The first brother who turned out to be only 18 want to buy it for his older brother who was turning 21 and had recently moved to Roxbury. The first brother was a talker, hipster glasses, a graphic tank top, smooth latino skin and perfectly coiffed hair. The older brother was rougher, wearing his old grey sweatpants and a white T. The looked like half brothers, same dimples but completely different style. Although they both did have sleeves of beautiful tattoos. The lettering was perfect and the icons indelible. La Vida, the Boston Bruins spoke, and two newly tatted spades, fresh shiny ink.
At first, they couldn’t do $500. But J--- and I wanted them to have it. They were young, unattached; basically the perfect age for Vespa adventures. I wanted them to experience all the laughter and sights and madness that I’d shared with David. It really was a deal, ours sold for much more and since this one was 50ccs you didn’t need a motorcycle liscence to buy it.
In the end, they came up with the money. I’m not sure how. No 18 year old should be carrying over $500 on their person but this guy was.
And now for the second and more amazing part of the story. At the end of the day when my shoulders were burnt and we were all hot and worn out from haggling, we packed up our stuff and lugged it back into our respective houses/apartments. And just as I was dragging up the unsold antique high chair, C--- walked up with an envelope. She and S-- had pooled the money to give to me and David for the move or whatever else we might need. It meant so much, so much more than I could put into words then or now. That is God’s blessing, not even just the money but good friends who care and will spend all day frying in the sun, not for themselves even but for you, even if you don’t know it!