Copyright 2011-2014 Joe Brewster
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Joe passed the same ‘Yard Sale’ sign every summer day for the last 10 years. Same sale, different summer.
Yard sales were a common sight in his neighborhood community but no other house ran their sale all summer long.
Not that Joe ever stopped to check it out. He wasn’t a big fan of that sort of thing. Flea Markets, Estate Sales, Vintage Stores— all of that stuff bored him silly. Joe had better things to do than spend his time browsing through junk. But today, for some reason, Joe stopped and checked it out.
He didn’t have much else to do. Not since his wife Bette died. She was the one that loved these sales. She tried her best to get Joe interested but Joe wouldn't budge. He left Bette all alone in her quest to scour the neighborhood in search of bargains and treasures.
If Bette felt abandoned, she never let on. Bette never complained.
This perpetual summer sale flourished in the yard of a modest ranch style home. Folding tables were set-up in the driveway and neatly piled with clothes and books and toys and all sorts of oddball things.
One of the first things Joe saw was a vintage drinking straw dispenser filled with old drinking straws made of paper.
Joe had forgotten about that. How, when he was a kid, all straws were made of paper.
If you took too long to finish your drink the paper straw became soggy and collapsed and fell apart.
On some of his first dates with Bette they’d sit at the soda shop counter and share one Coke™ with two straws. Bette thought that was so romantic. Her friends called it a cheap date and laughed at Joe for being stingy. Bette paid them no mind.