For the most part, I love surprises. This is part of the reason I am compelled to visit thrift shops. Big, shiny malls hold no appeal, tourist traps, eh fun to look in, but not tempted….but that little, easily overlooked resale shop is tempting- especially when out of town.
I do not need a sweatshirt or shot glass plastered with the names of the places I visit, because I will never forget where I found that unique turquoise and brown dress, the nifty ring, or the perfectly worn in denim jacket. Those are true souvenirs. And then there are little surprises like finding a dusty treasure of a book, a box of art supplies, stumbling across a complete Tom Waits collection- (well, not completely complete….but good enough) or a pair of never worn red converse in my size- those are surprises that make me smile.
…with that said, I am not a garage sale enthusiast. Nothing against those who map out their weekends according to which neighbor is cleaning their attic…. I just prefer the anonymity of wandering among items with origins unknown….among people unknown.