I took the ring and stuck it in a special box in the back case. There was a pair of emerald earrings in there. And a men’swatch. Those two were coming up on their end date. I hoped their owners came back for them. I hated selling things that people didn’twantto part with.
“How’s three months sound?” I asked, filling out a form.
“That’s more than enough. Thank you. Really.” She was actively crying as she shoved the money deep in her purse before making her way out of the store. Whether it was relief or grief—or a muddy combination of the two—was anyone’s guess.
“Well, I guess it’s another night of trying to make a meal out of whatever is in the fridge, huh?” I asked the tiny little mutt sleeping on a bed at my feet. “Well, me. Not you. You get all that expensive-ass prescription food.”
You’d think a dog I found while eating foul-smelling fish from near a dumpster by a sushi place would have the stomach of a rock. Alas, my ridiculous little rescue not only needed special food but also allergy shots and anxiety medication. The dog had better healthcare than I did.
Tuna was a tiny little thing. The vet said her best guess was he was a combination of a chihuahua and either a rat terrier or a mini pin. He shook all day, even with a sweater on and in the summer. He was afraid of everything and everyone. And he only occasionally was willing to be touched.
But I loved the little disaster.
“Do you think that bag of lettuce has gone all mushy yet?” I asked him. “Who am I kidding? That lettuce is a science experiment by now.” I was probably looking at a few slices of plastic cheese, pretzels, and a bag of frozen broccoli for dinner. I’ve had worse.
The bell above the door dinged, bringing in a man in a dusty shirt and two large boxes in his arms.
“Hey. What can I do for you?”
“Take all this crap,” he said, dropping the boxes down. The contents kicked up dust into the air.
“Wait,” I called as he made his way toward the door. “Don’t you want me to appraise and pay you for this?”
“Sell it. Toss it in the dumpster. I don’t care. Just for fuck’s sake, don’t make me deal with it.”
With that, he was gone.
“Okay then.”
It was a surprisingly common occurrence: people moving out of the city and not wanting to take too much crap with them. Or, more often, the relatives who had to clean out an apartment when their loved one passed.
Judging by the first couple of tchotchkes I pulled out, this man lost his grandmother.
I hoped for his sake that he wasn’t in need of cash, because he was missing out with this box. There were two sterling silver picture frames inside, each worth around a hundred bucks a piece; a vase that would probably go for forty to sixty, depending on if someone was going to haggle or not; a collection of cute salt and pepper shakers that wouldn’t be worth a lot, but were sure to sell relatively quickly; a couple of vintage lithographs that would sell eventually. And, finally, at the bottom, a wooden jewelry box.
Inside was a collection of tarnished rings and earrings, along with some statement costume necklaces and bracelets.
The rings and earrings would get me the most money, but the costume jewelry would sell in a blink.
“Things are looking up again, Tuna Roll,” I told my dog, who spared me a long look and a slow blink before tucking his head back in the side of his circle bed.
I mean, it was no two thousand and seventy-five bucks. But it brought me closer to being in the black again.
I loved a good freebie.
No guilt.
No investment to pay off before I made money.
Just pure profit.
It was why I was still a shameless trash day curb lurker. You never knew what you might find. Especially in the nicer neighborhoods. I once found a box full of designer handbags that were likely just ‘out of style’ and therefore worthless to the woman who lived in one of the thirty-million-dollar townhouses.
I ate well that month. I even managed to finally buy myself some furniture for my apartment that wasn’t glorified cardboard and glue.
I was still putting price tags on the items and placing them on shelves when the door opened and two guys walked in.
My gaze moved over them.
