I have a standard list of things I always look for secondhand: Levi’s, cashmere sweaters, silver plated flatware and old Buffalo Sabres items. But the real fun of someplace like Goodwill is the random shit that jumps out at you when you least expect it. Today was the mother-load of random shit, and I’ll show you the highlights because I am so delighted.
Exhibit one is something I did NOT purchase, although I put it in my cart and carried it around for a while until I could talk myself into putting it back. I’ve been working really hard on just buying things I need and/or can be useful rather than decorative. But my heart did skip a beat when I saw this awful glass clown:
The shame of this craptastic cell phone picture (besides the shame of me almost not figuring out how to e-mail this to myself) is that you can’t see the detail in his face. Everything about him is solid, heavy glass – except his eyebrows. He has little eyebrows THAT ARE TAPED ON. As if someone thought “well, he’s kind of creepy – let’s give him some eyebrows. Yes, that’s much better.” Oh dear God I wanted this clown. But at $7.99 it was by far the most expensive thing in my overstuffed cart. Choices had to be made. It was purely decorative and thus a forbidden item. I could see this on a shelf in a kid’s room. I could also see this falling off a shelf in a kid’s room and killing him. Maybe this clown has an evil history and that’s how it ended up in a Charlotte suburb Goodwill.
As I was flipping through a billion racks of t-shirts at light speed I was surprised to find both a Goo Goo Dolls shirt and a Sabres shirt (new electric slug logo unfortunately) – in North Carolina. Rare but awesome since I was wearing my own Sabres shirt today. And then in the middle of a bunch of ugly men’s shirts advertising Myrtle Beach and Cancun, I find this beauty:
What? On? Earth? This shirt is mine. I don’t even want to understand the story behind it.* It’s obviously going to Mardi Gras.
It’s actually in my size and really soft. I prayed the cashier gives me a dirty look of some sort when I check out so I can say “What? You’re selling it.” (She didn’t.) Sometimes the stars align don’t they? Just the other day I was discovering The Bloggess and reading her story about Beyonce the Giant Chicken. Then I found a nice zip hoodie in a matching color because when you live where you work, you sometimes have to tone your awesomeness down just a little when the straights are around.
But now I bring you to the point of this post. The ultimate WTF item of the day. There I was, looking for a bathroom (because I was somehow born with a squirrel’s bladder so I spend a lot time time scoping out where the bathrooms are). As I was glancing past housewares to scan the ladies room situation, I spot a big serving platter and I think it has lobsters on it. My husband is big into oceana but there’s so much of it in the world you really have to be picky. Not any fishy plate will do. The lobsters look a little funky and when I realize what their problem is, I have to contain myself and hold back from rushing the shelf and knocking people out of the way:
Yes way. The lobsters ARE FEET. And hands, but for some reason it’s really the feet part that sells me. Sweet creamery butter, someone stepped on this platter to make me lobsters. Because it’s red paint, it feels extra creepy/awesome. Like this family just crawled through glass and decided to make Grams a Christmas present.
On the back it says “Love – Tim, Joanna, Caroline 2010”.
Well Tim, Joanna and Caroline, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will cherish this platter. At least until 2013. My husband will too. I pulled this out of the bag when I got home and set this in his lap barely capping my glee as I yell “THE LOBSTERS ARE FEET! FEET I TELL YOU!” He wasn’t quite as thrilled as I was, but he knows when to go along with my mania. Tonight we had bacon, egg and cheese muffins with a side of oranges – and ate from the platter.
*I did an Interwebz search and found that Rooster Teeth is actually a gaming community website. That’s all of the story I need or want to know.