No one would ever accuse me of being slightly OCD because slightly is an adjective I rarely manage to achieve.
Right now I'm all over CraigsList again. But this time, I'm the buyer. I got the crazy flipper fingers scrolling through lists of used furniture and household oddities at least twice a day. Ha ha, you know I meant every twelve minutes.
When I hit refresh, bloop bloop bloop, day or night, new posts dance before my eyes like sugar plum fairies. Good clean fun only available within densely populated areas. All these things I never dreamed I could drag home for such small scheckle. So far, I've bought Christmas lights ($10), an electric disco ball ($10), a fuzzy rug ($90), an iron ($5), a fancy teapot ($20) and aromotherapy essentials ($5).
This is where the hangers come in.
The ad said the hangers were new, wooden, 80 for $30. I asked if I could get 40ish for $15. Seller agreed to the terms. Except she had a trick up her mild-mannered sleeve. I had to throw away my large to-go coffee container because the whole episode rapidly turned into a two-handed operation.
We shelled out our $15, and she gave us our 40 hangers. Except she threw in a ginormous box of about 200 more hangers as a parting gift.
Holy sweet merciful fuck. This box of hangers dwarfed regular-sized boxes of hangers and presented unique physically demanding challenges. People took great pains to avoid us teetering down the sidewalk. I really needed that whole cup of coffee and cursed more than was probably entirely necessary. But in the end, our reckless endangerment of others was worth it. All my pants now have homes of their own. So do my pajamas, towels and socks.
Perhaps vous is in need of a sturdy hanger to dangle your finery? 50 cents each, two free with purchase of a dozen.
I love the CraigsList.