It was as if a coked-up Mike Tyson went a full twelve rounds on my brain. I was physically exhausted and my mind was mush. My thoughts splintered in a hundred different directions, impossible to follow, let alone verbally communicate. The sun can have that effect on you.

The temperature gauge notified me it was 115 degrees. For the past 6 hours Whitefire and I sat in the god-forsaken Arizona sun presiding over a garage sale.

Now, there are multiple definitions for “stoopid” and I think that’s one of them. But hey…

No one said pimpin’ was easy.

We sold anything and everything we could to raise some cash. Cash for responsible normal people things like debts and closing utilities. Trying to get a grip on all that before we head overseas. Of course, some of that cash went towards beer while we baked our brains in the yard. Y’know… responsible things.

Now, whether it be because we had cool shit to sell or because of our stellar slurred conversation, some folks came back again and again and they brought friends.

I thought that odd but I haven’t participated in a garage sale since, oh, 1980 or something so maybe that’s how folks roll nowadays.

Like I said, some folks came early in the morning then came back an hour or so later to pick up an item they didn’t purchase but couldn’t get out of their mind. Some even brought friends to the sale to show them stuff and encourage them to buy all the widgets and whatnot.

Needless to say, these folks were pretty cool. They liked our cool shit and brought their cool friends to get in on the cool action.

We hustled, too. We definitely would not have sold the amount we had if we didn’t engage folks and preach the merits of the widget they were looking at or worked bundled deals. The ol’ car sales skills were coming in handy.

Over the course of several mind-melting days, we actually pulled in about $1500 between the two of us. Maybe pimpin is easy?