You let the bags down gently on your coffee table, back from another successful thrifting excursion.
You spent… what? Maybe $50 total?
You got some real good finds for a steal, you thought to yourself.
You gently unravel your new mug from some musty dusty paper. A silly frog-shaped mug with silly little arms and little yellow eyes. A strange affectionate connection between the two of you emerges. You suddenly remember how good a cup of coffee sounds right about now–
“I used to hold paint water… so don’t drink from me– RIBBIT!”
You nod to yourself. Best for him to hold your toothbrush then.
You move to the vinyl record you purchased to hang on your wall. Does anyone even listen to these anymore anyway? It’s like orchestra music or something. It was only like 50 cents and would be better suited to hang above your couch.
“I play the wedding songs of two lovers married in 1939…” the record protested as you set it aside.
Someone used to enjoy this album. Maybe you would give it a listen… someday.
Next, a cookbook of only JELL-O recipes some 1950s housewife probably used. You bought it for the novelty. A cookbook just for JELL-O?? Who were these people?! You couldn’t wait to show your roommates when they got home. Maybe you would try a recipe just for kicks and giggles.
“… I was used to prepare spectacular JELL-O dishes to entertain house guests at dinner parties.
The spinach and broccoli JELL-O really isn’t as bad as you might think!”
Hard pass, you think. But as you skim through the pages, you noticed a sweet orange and pineapple JELL-O salad that looked kind of good and reminded you of something your grandma used to make.
Maybe you regret buying this one… but who else would be willing to give these wacky recipes a try?
You slip on the new sweater you bought for the fall. Colorful and loose-fitting. It doesn’t match anything you own. You can’t seem to find a tag anywhere, so you are unsure of the brand.
“I was knit by hand by some old lady as a present for her granddaughter. The kid is your age. In fact, she probably goes to your school. The old lady spent months creating me. Stitch by painful, arthritis-ridden stitch. You know what that kid did? Turned around and donated me to the thrift store.”
That’s kind of rude, you think. You run your fingers over the uneven stitches, more aware of the imperfections.
It’s kind of cute actually, you think to yourself. Might become a closet staple when the weather gets cold. That poor lady’s hard work shouldn’t end up in the trash somewhere.
Finally, you pull the final items out of the bag: a new purse and wallet.
You check inside the wallet, hoping to see some forgotten cash but instead find a gift card to
Red Robin and a fortune from a fortune cookie.
“The girl who had me last was big into astrology and stuff. She always collected these little fortunes. There’s more in the bottom of the purse.”
You check… there are dozens of fortunes in the purse. Kinda cute, you think. Maybe you and this girl would’ve been friends in another life.
You spend a couple of minutes putting away your new things… well… new to you.