So I decided I needed a pair of those retro plastic-weave aluminum folding chairs for our excursions. Which meant, of course, that I couldn't find them anywhere. Well, Leah found some online on eBay for $50-$80 a pair, but they were awfully expensive for chairs that had molded over the years to someone elses' butts.
The day before we left for the Adirondacks, I was driving to work and I passed a once-a-month flea market at the antique barn. OMG. There were my chairs. (insert chorus of heavenly angels here.) I pulled in and asked the woman at the table, "How much?"
"Those aren't for sale," she said. In fact, a purse and a cup of coffee sat beneath one, and a change box under the other. "We sit on those at our flea markets." She gestured to her husband who was chatting at a nearby table. My face fell.
"But I suppose we would consider selling them if the price was right," she said.
"And I would consider buying them if the price was right," I said cautiously. I examined their condition out of the corner of my eye as I calculated how much would be too much. Maybe I'd pay $30 for the pair. Probably not $40. But maybe. They had rust on them, but they had clearly been re-webbed . And I really wanted these chairs.
"How's $5 each?" the woman said.
"Great!" I said. I quickly handed her a $10 bill, shoved the chairs into the back of my car, and sped off before she could change her mind, and before her husband showed up to protest.