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The Yard Sale Of Broken Dreams
Hopes are BOGO.
Hi there! The weather’s beautiful today, isn’t it? Perfect for a yard sale of all my broken dreams.
Ah, I see you’re looking at my collection of engagement rings. I do need to disclose that some of them may be slightly cursed. A quick dunk in holy water and they should be fine. What size are you looking for? My weight is up and down, so there’s something for everyone.
Yes, that’s a real diamond. I tried to sell it right after the divorce, but the resale value on diamonds is crap. My ex-husband paid $8000. I’ll let you have it for $100, cash on the barrelhead. No? $10? How about a bite of that candy bar you’re eating?
For some reason, my insurance company didn’t believe me when I told them I “lost” it salmon fishing in the Yukon with the crew of Deadliest Catch.
I was actually shopping for engagement rings when the pandemic broke out. But then everything kind of fell apart when I found out my boyfriend is an idiot who believes in conspiracy theories and voted for Trump. That’s him over there — wave, honey! Yes, he’s wearing a sign that says “$1.00 OBO.”
Don’t walk away! I can work with you on the price!
Hey there! No, I’m sorry, I can’t “sign my Master’s Degree over to you”. It really only works if we both have the…
