I lived in the same place for five years.  I had no idea how much I had accumulated in that time frame.  So when the time came to pack up and set out on this unknown adventure, I had three garage sales to get rid of stuff.  No matter what you’re selling, garage sales only yield 1/6th to 1/8th of the original value of the item – if you’re lucky, but even if the monetary yield is low, the cultural experience is always guaranteed to be high.  At my first garage sale held in conjunction with three other friends, I decided to sell my steel Samurai sword.  I obtained the sword through a series of obscure events.   It started with an ex-boyfriend picking up a load of “treasures” from the curb, which included a Rubbermaid organizer of various crafting materials, an ironing board, and a large, framed picture of a Sussex rooster.  Serious randomness on the last item.  It made me laugh so hard that I kept it and took it with me when I moved to Farmington, NM, on my second rotation with my employer.  En route I stopped in Red River, NM, to see my older brother and hang out a bit with him and his friends.  Rooster, a fellow bar tender with my brother and crowned with red hair, thought that Farmington was so dangerous that I needed a weapon for protection.  You see, his brother and wife had lived there and experienced a drunken, unknown man walking into their house, laying down on their couch, and falling asleep.  Based on this second-hand experience, I clearly needed something.  We decided that he would give me his samurai sword in exchange for the picture of the Sussex rooster, his namesake.   Thus, I ended up with a full-size samurai sword for protection in Farmington, NM.  I finally decided to sell it at the first garage sale after no one wanted it on Craigslist.  The buyer of the sword rolled up to the garage sale in a suburban with a lawn mower strapped on top.  He was a gruff guy with a gruff voice, random tattoos everywhere, and scars that I’m certain had some scary stories to go along with them.  He also had on a hot pink shirt and was packing heat.  Could I make this up? Deep gruff voice: “How much for the sword?” he asked.  Everyone’s eyes turned toward me.  “Ummmm…$10,” I nervously answered.  “I’ll take it, and this truck for my daughter.”  Of course you have a daughter that plays with trucks.  Yes, I can make change.  With Samurai sword in one hand, truck in the other, and gun on the hip, he hopped in his mower-laden suburban and drove to the next garage sale.  It’s a good thing we were all drinking Bloody Maries for our garage sale or we may have thought that was an odd situation.  I am curious to know more about his story.   I guess some things will be left unknown.