This past Saturday some friends and I decided to trek to the north of Montreal, up to the St. Michel flea market. In my brain, I imagined little old ladies sitting next to their piles of WW2 era jewelry, old hats and scarves. I imagined finding a usable typewriter for five bucks, or maybe even a whole liquor set with fifties style insignia. Instead I got this guy following me around...
Notice what looks like an injection needle in his hand, ready to pounce and incapacitate me in this maze of dusty old cell phones and curling irons.
My prediction about the little old ladies huddled around their wares was accurate, but everything was way too expensive or just plain useless (Do I really need a maroon cell phone from 1996, sans charger? Will that ever accrue value? Ever?)
