My daughter and son-in-law live in a middle class Chicago suburb, fringed by exclusive areas with expensive homes. As recent graduate students with a new mortgage, money is tight. It's been tight for a while and will be indefinitely. Yet, they've still furnished their home with some nice furniture.
All it took was timing and some astute driving skills.
It turns out, the practice of Chicago suburbans (and many other city dwellers), is to put a couch, or a table, when no longer wanted, out on the sidewalk for anyone who has a need.
We have out grown our ping pong table, and we're tired of seeing it folded upright against the basement wall. Ah ha...we have an idea. Why not leave it out on the sidewalk even though we live in an out of the way cul-de-sac. Risky, but you never know.
Tony enlists a son-in-law's help and lays out his wares on the sidewalk. He even makes a "free" sign and tapes it on. Each time I pull out of the drive way or walk down the block, I chuckle at the ping pong table on the sidewalk.
Each day Tony gives me a ping pong table update along with his latest sidewalk peddling philosophy.
"The "free" sign is missing," he says, "do you think someone took it off cause they're coming back to pick it up and they don't want someone else to take it?"
That is a bit of a stretch, and I happened to see it blow off. I tell him so and add, "I picked it up and tucked it into one of the bars. I'm sure it just blew off again."
"I duct taped another free sign so it won't happen again."
On another day, he checks the box underneath, filled with paddles and assorted ping pong paraphenalia. "Someone took all the ping pong paddles. Do you think they're coming back to pick up the table? They probably needed to get a truck."
I indulge him with some positive reinforcement, "That's it I'm sure."
But no one comes to pick up the ping pong table that day or the next.
Finally the day arrives. Tony has ventured out to get the mail (he never gets the mail except when he's trying to peddle a ping pong table from our sidewalk), and he sees a young couple looking over the ping pong table. His heart probably started to pound at the prospect of ridding our sidewalk of what our neighbors may think will always be there or even worse, that it's our new yard art. They too probably chuckle, though it's more likely at us than at the ping pong table/sidewalk juxtaposition.
The couple is going home to get their van and will return to pick it up! Best of all, they tell Tony they've been wanting a ping pong table for a while and here it is free for the taking. I know how happy they are because that is how we acquired this very ping pong table. I put the desire into the universe and a neighbor, tired of seeing the table folded upright in her basement, offered it to me.
What goes around comes around--ping pong tables included.
Ping pong table karma.
All it took was timing and some astute driving skills.
It turns out, the practice of Chicago suburbans (and many other city dwellers), is to put a couch, or a table, when no longer wanted, out on the sidewalk for anyone who has a need.
We have out grown our ping pong table, and we're tired of seeing it folded upright against the basement wall. Ah ha...we have an idea. Why not leave it out on the sidewalk even though we live in an out of the way cul-de-sac. Risky, but you never know.
Tony enlists a son-in-law's help and lays out his wares on the sidewalk. He even makes a "free" sign and tapes it on. Each time I pull out of the drive way or walk down the block, I chuckle at the ping pong table on the sidewalk.
Each day Tony gives me a ping pong table update along with his latest sidewalk peddling philosophy.
"The "free" sign is missing," he says, "do you think someone took it off cause they're coming back to pick it up and they don't want someone else to take it?"
That is a bit of a stretch, and I happened to see it blow off. I tell him so and add, "I picked it up and tucked it into one of the bars. I'm sure it just blew off again."
"I duct taped another free sign so it won't happen again."
On another day, he checks the box underneath, filled with paddles and assorted ping pong paraphenalia. "Someone took all the ping pong paddles. Do you think they're coming back to pick up the table? They probably needed to get a truck."
I indulge him with some positive reinforcement, "That's it I'm sure."
But no one comes to pick up the ping pong table that day or the next.
Finally the day arrives. Tony has ventured out to get the mail (he never gets the mail except when he's trying to peddle a ping pong table from our sidewalk), and he sees a young couple looking over the ping pong table. His heart probably started to pound at the prospect of ridding our sidewalk of what our neighbors may think will always be there or even worse, that it's our new yard art. They too probably chuckle, though it's more likely at us than at the ping pong table/sidewalk juxtaposition.
The couple is going home to get their van and will return to pick it up! Best of all, they tell Tony they've been wanting a ping pong table for a while and here it is free for the taking. I know how happy they are because that is how we acquired this very ping pong table. I put the desire into the universe and a neighbor, tired of seeing the table folded upright in her basement, offered it to me.
What goes around comes around--ping pong tables included.
Ping pong table karma.