You Were What You Eat
***
Anna had decided to dress professionally for her trip to the antiques shop, and had put on a pair of black pants and a white V-necked blouse. She’d pulled her hair back in a neat bun, trying to look as old as she possibly could. She wanted whoever she talked to take her seriously, and she’d long ago discovered that people just didn’t listen to her if she looked too young.
Before Anna had even moved to this town, she had looked up the local antique dealers. The fact that there was a big, well-established shop at the center of town had been a real draw for her. It was this shop that Anna was headed off to.
She glanced up at the sign as she crossed the parking lot towards the two-story building. “Ye Olde Antiques Shoppe”. Anna smirked slightly as she read the name, thinking that, in all honesty, it was pretty stupid. Who wrote things like that? Even still, they were some of the best people around for miles, and she knew that they’d know exactly how valuable the things she was bringing to them really were.
Anna struggled with the door for a few minutes, trying to get it open while still holding her big, awkward cardboard box. The box was too big to hold with just one arm, making it difficult to pull the door open. Fortunately, a short, leathery old lady with frazzled orange hair was just leaving, and held the door open for Anna.
“Thanks.” Anna mumbled to her as she made her way inside.
The inside of the store looked like a warehouse. The whole first floor was only one room, about sixty feet long and just as deep, and furniture was stacked everywhere. After glancing around, it became apparent to Anna that the room was organized not by type of furniture – beds with beds and desks with desks – but by the era that each piece was made in. The area she was currently standing in looked like it was designated for paraphernalia from the 1930s and ’40s. Everything on this floor looked like it was from some time in this century. Along the back wall, Anna could see a staircase leading upstairs to where she presumed the older furniture lay.
Looking around, she spotted the cash register in the center of this over-crowded room. Slowly, she made her way over, careful not to run into a table corner jutting out or knock a precariously-perched lamp to the floor.
The counter was four-sided, and in the middle sat a rather plump old lady reading a book. Her blue-white hair was pulled on top of her head in a kind of beehive. When she saw Anna approach, she stood up and smiled, pulling red-framed glasses out of her pocket and slipping them on her nose. “Good afternoon,” the woman said pleasantly. “How are you today?”
“I’m doing fine.” Anna replied, hoisting the box up onto the counter. “How are you?”
The woman brightened visibly as she said, “I’m well, thank you.”
Anna felt sorry for the old woman; she got the distinct feeling that most people didn’t care enough to ask how she was doing.
After exchanging their greetings, Anna took her pictures out of the box. “I’ve been going through some things at my grandmother’s house,” she lied, “and I think I’m going to have to get rid of a few pieces.” With this, she started carefully pulling the clothes out of the cardboard box. The woman walked out from behind her desk, and started helping Anna lay the dresses out flat on the counter. The old lady was clearly awestruck, though she tried her best to hide it. After several moments of silence, she finally said, “I’ve never seen clothes this old in such great condition.”
Anna smiled at hearing this. So many times, people at antique shops tried to pretend that she’d brought in things that are almost worthless, though Anna knew perfectly well they weren’t. This time, however, she knew that the woman’s shock would make it much easier to get the kind of price she deserved; there wouldn’t be nearly as much arguing as there usually was. After all, Anna knew exactly what she could get for the things she sold, and wouldn’t take less. She had been doing this for a very long time, after all. And since she’d intended to sell these clothes since the day she’d bought them, she’d taken excellent care of them – and it showed.
“Thank you.” Anna said to the lady. “I’m hoping to sell these today. I also have a few pieces of furniture in my apartment that I’d like to get rid of as well.” As she said this, Anna handed the old woman the folders, complete with Polaroids she’d taken just an hour or so before. If possible, the old woman’s eyes got even wider as she flipped through the photos. Anna found herself becoming excited at how easy this was going to be. “Since I don’t have a way to get those here myself, I was hoping I could arrange for someone to come get them.” The places Anna’d gone to in the past usually had someone with a truck who could transport big pieces of furniture in situations like this. Ye Olde Antique Shoppe proved no exception.
“I think that can be arranged.” the old woman told her. Then, tearing her eyes away from the photographs, she said, “I can pay you now for the clothes, and you’ll receive the money for the furniture when we come to pick it up. That way we can properly inspect it to determine a fair price.”
Anna nodded and the woman walked back behind the counter towards the register.
Anna walked out of the store with a glint in her eye and a pocket full of cash. And she’d been given a pretty high estimate for her furniture, which would be picked up on Tuesday afternoon. Anna couldn’t help but be happy; she’d gotten more than even she’d been prepared for – which was saying a lot. With the money she already had in her hand from the clothes, and the money she’d receive from her furniture, she’d have enough to last her several more years – almost a decade if she was reasonably careful. Oh, yes. She’d definitely found her calling.
Chapter 7: When the Rain Comes