We’re hot-footing it back down to Los Angeles tomorrow for a very quick trip (back on Wednesday.) R Man has a trial there and has to go be all Perry Mason and stuff. Urban Street Pirate and I are going along for moral support and to hang out together while R Man knocks his opponents’ dicks in the dirt. I have the one day we’re going to be there all planned out as a whirl of thrift stores. R Man tragically has never gotten the thrill of prowling through other people’s crap, it’s the only area we disagree on. So in all these trips to the Southland, I consistently point out the many fabulous looking junk stores and he speeds up.
This then is my perfect chance. With him distracted, the Pirate and I will sweep through castoff heaven. Here’s part of the Yelp review of St. Vincent de Paul’s there, described as the biggest thrift store in captivity:
Waste transfer station or thrift store? You decide! You’ll find here splintered and damaged particle board furniture, rows of used mattresses, broken and irregular chairs, all sorts of soiled and damaged sundry bric-a-brac that look like they were Goodwill discards. I recommend donning a Tyvek body suit to avoid picking up any bed-bugs on your clothes. Be sure to check out the awesome collection of post apocalyptic Katrina Cars and derelict boats in the back parking lot!
It sounds too fabulous for words. And Bed Bugs? What kind of pussy wrote this? I’ve been in second hand stores where you needed to be concerned about picking up scurvy and typhus; a few measly vermin aren’t about to scare me off. And it’s not all about scoring a find. One of my favorite things about junking is to diss the store, in fact, I have used the phrase “Goodwuil discards” myself. Gleefully.
Plus, excellent sounding Mexican food downtown for dinner Tuesday after a hard day shaking the racks of thrift stores throughout the metro area. I can’t wait.
Watch for reports of developments as they occur.