A GOOD, NON-MURDER GAME PLAN

         I decided to try to sell some larger items, like furniture, especially since I knew I would be moving into a smaller place. I could think of no reason to keep some of the larger pieces of furniture.

Once I determined which pieces I would try to sell, I posted them on Facebook Marketplace priced to sell quickly!

A couple of items, like the fancy, oak roll-top desk, a friend wanted. Those I gladly gave away.

I sold a small, glass curio cabinet with lights you could turn on and off, and a big China hutch with a glass cupboard on top, and three drawers underneath.

People met me at my apartment and I felt somewhat safe, as there were other residents in the building and most met me during the day.

However, one time someone contacted me about the sewing machine and cabinet I had for sale, but they wanted to meet me at 8 pm. They said they needed to wait until their husband was off work, to come over and pick it up.

I decided to agree, but later I talked with my sister and she cautioned me. “Why do they want to meet you so late? That doesn’t sound right. And why does she need her husband?”

Those few questions were enough to let my imagination run wild! I knew if they were coming to murder and rob me, there was no one on the alert nearby. My little Jack Russell terrier would bark up a storm, but I wasn’t really sure he would do much damage, and I was certainly not convinced he would come to my defense!

I decided to take my sister’s advice and called a friend of mine that lived within 15-20 minutes of me. I gave her the little bit of contact information I had on the person—really, just her Facebook name. I told her the time we were to meet (after my friend’s bedtime!!), and she agreed that if she did not hear from me around 20 minutes after 8, she would call the cavalry!

In an effort to avoid my impending death, I thought about steps I could take to lessen my “exposure”. I decided to keep the exchange as “public” as possible, and not allow them into my apartment.

The four-apartment complex had an attached building that had four, one-car garages. Each of those garages had a door in the back that led down a hallway and to the apartment doors.

I decided it would be safer to move the sewing machine into the garage, and I could just open the garage door when they arrived and not even allow them in my apartment. Furthermore, if things went south, I could make a hasty retreat to the back of the garage and down the hallway, hopefully fast enough to be able to unlock the door and get inside.

I felt like I had a good, non-murder game plan for the late-night sewing machine exchange.

I had my sister and my friend ready by phone if I needed backup.

A few minutes before the sewing machine exchange time, I opened the garage door and watched for headlights.

They pulled in.

I waved.

A middle-aged couple stepped out of their older, pickup truck. The woman quickly came over and introduced herself and her husband.

I showed her the cabinet and opened the door to show her the sewing machine. She had never seen something like that, so I raised the top up and over until it landed on the other side of the hinge—making the sewing “table”. Then I showed her how to lift the sewing machine and put the piece down in the front to keep it in place.

She was amazed.

She shared how she had been learning to sew by hand and had been wanting to buy a sewing machine.

“But,” she said, “we couldn’t afford one.”

They were such a sweet couple I gladly showed her how to thread the machine, the settings, and the foot pedal.

She was incredibly grateful, and they loaded it up in their pickup truck and drove it away.

It was such a wonderful experience selling the sewing machine to someone so excited about it, that I ALMOST forgot to contact my sister and my friend, who most assuredly would be calling the police any minute!!

I called; they did not. All was well.

A few days later, a woman came over to buy a winged-back chair I posted. A much braver salesman now, I brought her into my apartment. As I explained my situation and how I was selling much of my furniture before I moved, she asked what else I would be selling.

I pointed to my glass coffee table with matching end tables. She looked them over and asked the price.

She explained that she had a store where she sold furniture that she refurbished. She really wanted to take all four pieces of furniture. I really wanted to sell her all four pieces. Unfortunately, she did not have enough room to fit them all in her car, nor did she bring enough money with her.

I felt like she was trustworthy. She paid me for the one piece, and we loaded two in her car. We exchanged phone numbers, and it turned out her store was closer to where I worked, than to my apartment.

We agreed on the day, and I volunteered to load the other two pieces into my car. I would drive them to work, where she could meet me to pick them up and pay for the rest of the furniture.

I am happy to say she honored her word, and she bought the rest of that set! The more furniture I sold, the lighter I felt. The more boxes I emptied, the less I had to move.

 This is a chapter from my new book, “Out of the Box” where I elaborate projects and include pictures. The book will be available in paperback on Amazon soon, and the digital version is currently available now at https://www.amazon.com/Out-Box-Kim-Taylor-ebook/dp/B0HCM91KV8

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