Sometimes, a school or a church will get donations of old junk and sell it
all at one time, as a fundraiser."
"And how do you locate these?" he asked, bobbing up and down slightly with
excitement.
"Well, there're amateurs who just read the ads in the weekend papers, or just
pick a neighbourhood and wander around, but that's no way to go about it. What I
do is, I get in a truck, and I sniff the air, catch the scent of crap and
_vroom!_, I'm off like a bloodhound on a trail. You learn things over time: like
stay away from Yuppie yard sales, they never have anything worth buying, just
the same crap you can buy in any mall."
"Do you think I might accompany you some day?"
"Hell, sure. Next Saturday? We'll head over to Cabbagetown -- those old coach
houses, you'd be amazed what people get rid of. It's practically criminal."
"I would like to go with you on next Saturday very much Mr Jerry Abington." He
used to talk like that, without commas or question marks. Later, he got better,
but then, it was all one big sentence.
"Call me Jerry. It's a date, then. Tell you what, though: there's a Code you got
to learn before we go out.
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