Whither thou goest in thy chariot?

I was driving down Bass Road about 8:15 a.m. last Saturday morning. There was a lot of traffic to be that early. But it was a beautiful day, and I guess a lot of folks decided it was just too pretty to stay in bed and sleep late.

Along the way, I got stuck behind a car that was going excruciatingly slow. I don’t mean to generalize or stereotype here, but let’s just say the man and woman in the front seat might have been on their way to an AARP meeting.

It was a Buick. Old model, probably low mileage.

They were wearing big hats.

They were riding the brakes.

They were obviously in no big hurry, their heads turning with each approaching number on the mailboxes.

I started playing a little game. I wondered where they might be going. To visit a friend? To catch an early bird sale at the pharmacy?

Then we rounded a curves and there were cars parked on either side.

I’ll give you one guess where they were headed.

Yep.

You got it.

It was a yard sale.