BEGGARS CAN'T BE CHOOSERS...

The day after the garage sale, Mark (an old family friend) and I took a couple of larger items around to the Salvation Army Store.

All we had was a retro coffee table (really chunky wooden thing with marble look tiles on top – chukarama), six dining table chairs (which I am glad to see the back of), a green plastic outdoor table and a huge white desk/shelving system that Dad had built.

Mum didn’t want to take them to the unit with her, and they didn’t sell at the garage sale.  They were far too nice to turf into the skip, so I suggested we take them around to the Salvo’s.  At least they would appreciate the donation, and get some money for them.

So, Mark, his 11 year old son Troy, and I loaded up the trailer, and off we went. 

Now, I’ve heard that The Salvo’s can be fussy about what they get, which I understand, because they get a whole heap of shit dumped on their doorstep.  Sadly, a lot of this stuff they can’t use, so they have to dispose of it themselves, which I imagine could be quite costly.  However, I didn’t realise how fussy they actually were.

These items that Mark, Troy and I took around were in great condition.  They were clean, undamaged and in good working order.  However, when we pulled up, we were faced with the unexpected: the Salvo Nazi.

This dude came out to greet us, and I swear to you, he looked like he’d been sleeping in one of their collection bins.  The thought of cracking a smile never crossed his mind as he barked ‘what do ya want?’ at me.

I bit my tongue, because I wanted to say ‘A fucken smile and some courtesy would be nice, but that might be too much to ask.’  However, I opted for ‘We’ve got some furnishings for you.’

He looked at the trailer, and at Mark, who pleasantly said ‘G’day mate,’ but got nothin’ in return.  Clearly, this guy had either been here too long, or just didn’t want to be here at all.

He walked around our trailer a couple of times, inspecting its contents.  I shot Mark a ‘wtf?’ look, and he just shrugged.  As I watched him, I thought ‘you’re not inspecting a thoroughbred mate. It’s fucken furniture.’ And suppressed a smile.  ‘Do you want us to take it out so you can get a better look at it?’ I offered.

No response.  He ran his hands all over the chairs, and said ‘Yeah.  We’ll take them.’  Mark and I shot each other another look, as the realisation that they may not take these items flashed through both of our minds.  ‘Troy,’ I said quietly, putting my arm around my buddy’s shoulders.  ‘Start unloading the chairs man… before he changes his mind.’  Troy was off like a dog shot in the arse. 

Salvo Nazi ran his hands over the coffee table, and declared ‘It’s really dirty.’  I’m like ‘What?’ and he repeated ‘It’s really dirty.  Look at it.’

I walked over the table and had a look at it; what the fuck was he talking about?  ‘What do you mean dirty?  It’s clean.  I just cleaned it before I bought it down here.’  I was totally confused… the thing was spotless…

‘See this here… it’s dirty.’ He said, pointing to the pattern on the tiles.

I’m like ‘Dude; it’s the pattern of the tiles.  It’s a marble look tile… it’s the colour of it.’  Salvo Nazi thought about it for a moment, and said ‘I see what you mean!’ and laughed.  ‘I thought it was dirty!’

Holy shit.

He inspected the desk and the outdoor table, and Mark said ‘These are in really good condition.  Look at the desk; there’s not a mark on it.’ he said, trying to convince him to hurry up, because we had heaps more shit to do at Stone Manor, and this was taking forever.

‘I like the desk,’ he signalled to another guy, who helped troy lift it out of the trailer.  ‘I can’t take this though.’ He said, pointing to the outdoor table.

‘Why?’ again, I was baffled.  It was in good condition, and someone out there would’ve given them money for it. 

‘There are no legs for it.’

‘The legs are under the coffee table.’ Mark offered.  ‘I took them off to make it easier to transport …’ and with that, we lifted out the coffee table, and there they were.

Mark didn’t even wait; he just grabbed the table top and leaned it against the side of the building whilst I grabbed the legs.  ‘Just push the legs back in, and they’ll be fine.’

Again, Salvo Nazi didn’t even crack a smile. 

‘Well… thanks for that.’ I smiled, for some reason unbeknownst to me.  Salvo Nazi just nodded and walked away.  ‘You’re welcome!’ I called after him.

No thank you.  No kiss my arse.  Nothing.  I really feel that my charitable donation was greatly received.  Not. 

I climbed back into the car and turned to Mark.  ‘What the fuck?’

‘I know…’ he said, shaking his head as he kicked over the engine.  ‘I feel like I’ve committed a crime.’

I laughed.  ‘So do I!  It’s been a while since I donated anything like this to charity… I just didn’t realise that it wasn’t straight forward... like, I never expected them to reject anything, you know?’

Mark knodded.  ‘Yeah… and the stuff we bought here was in good knick…could you imagine the shit they would get though?  I mean, clearly we didn’t, but…  I just didn’t realise that beggars can be choosers, ya know?’

‘Yeah...’ I said, looking back at the store as we drove off.  I saw the six dining chairs that were forty years old and pinched my arse, the desk, the ‘dirty’ coffee table and the outdoor table sitting there, watching us go.  ‘Someone out there will appreciate them.’

Troy added ‘Yeah, even if the Salvo Nazi doesn’t.’

Uncharitable peace out.