Though usually embraced for the welcome change in both weather and women’s attire, summer nontheless brings about some awful changes as well. Besides scores of bored, dead-eyed teenagers suddenly wandering the streets, the worst plague befouling the otherwise beloved season is definitely the public scourge known as yard sales. Or as they’re more commonly known, White Trash Swap Meets. Now every weekend it looks like I’m driving through some fuckin rolling market in Bangladesh.
You know the economy is in the shitter when people are rummaging through their garbage to pluck out a few items worthy of dignity prostitution. Is it just me or does there seem to be more of these roadside monstrosities than ever before lately? It’s like McDonald’s versus Burger King the way they’re so tightly packed together on every damn corner. These days, the only thing more prevalent in Taunton than yard sales are boarded up stores. Or overdoses.
And my oh my, doesn’t that make for an entertaining Sunday drive, as I’ve already eluded to. Nothing like an army of nitwits parking all over and blocking the streets so they can rifle through the worthless junk of strangers. Last weekend I drove by a yard sale practically every hundred yards. At one of the more oversized and therefore douchier gatherings, I saw like fifty fuckin cars alongside both sides of the street directly across from a police station. It looked like a goddamn used car lot out there. Meanwhile, isn’t there some kind of protocol for illegal parking? Or do the police simply throw that out, much like the people selling that crap should have done?
I don’t know the answers to such deep questions, but I do know what I’d like to see the next time a goddamn suburban traffic jam springs up on another side street: suddenly a giant monster truck appearing on the horizon, which then proceeds to flatten every single fuckin car.