Monday, 13 October 2008
Charity Shops - in a minute, something changed . . .
I'm not talking about the economic implosion that is happening world-wide at the moment, though heaven knows that is worrying enough. I am just grateful that we didn't have huge amounts of money stashed away in Icelantic banks (like many of the Welsh councils and Police Forces who are now panicking and doubtless working out how much of an increase in Council Tax they can raise to offset their losses).
I'm talking about the sniffiness of a woman who was a volunteer helper in one of the charity shops I support in Carmarthen. I staggered in the door with three carrier bags full of excess belongings in a large supermarket blue bag, another two bags and a case of childrens' craft supplies which one of my daughters had had as a Christmas present one year. I said cheerfully, "I've brought you some supplies, where would you like me to put them?" Very sniffily, she said, "What's in the bags?" I had to start bringing my "trash" out a piece at a time - here's a little dish, here's a brooch, some childrens' books, a Halloween mask, some curtain material, oh and some trousers and shorts." "Books are good," she said, and "clothes always sell," implying that the rest was just me avoiding taking it to the Tip! She took it all, but with reluctance, and I vowed NOT to go back into that shop again, especially when the last book I was interested in at that shop, I found was priced higher than I had seen it offered for (new) in the discount book shop up the street! Perhaps I looked shabby or dodgy (I did have my Peter Storm jacket on). Perhaps she'd had a bad day, but that particular shop will not benefit from any more of my "junk". I had a gigantic bin liner full of material I had bought from Fabric Warehouse intending to use for cushions, quilts etc, which I was going to donate. Now I think I will Car Boot it instead. It really wrong-footed me as no Charity Shop has ever queried what I've donated in the past.
Just off to check how dodgy I look in the mirror . . .