Storage Bores

One day last winter I noticed on my bucket list the following entry: "Go to a storage auction and buy something." In mid January I purchased three padlocks and went to several auctions. It is now clear that Storage Wars will not ever be taped in Indiana in January. As the natives here would say, "I liked to froze!"
The storage auctions were much like on TV, except they usually have a key or a combination, so I didn't get the thrill of flying sparks from the power metal cutter.
I found out that a successful bidder has 24 hours to get EVERYTHING, debris, rotten food and little roach families out of the unit. You can't even use the storage facility trash cans. Out means out.
I never bought anything nor have I bid on anything, but I still have the padlocks in my truck, ready to snap on the door of my purchase.

Last week, my son bought some lockers from Restore, the fabulous re-sale arm of Habitat for Humanity.
Once in his garage, we had the thrill of removing a padlock on one of the doors. It was, to me, a mini storage thrill. I present it to you now.

You can see the contents. Or can you? We broke for a commercial right after I uttered "OOOOHHH" (As heard on TV.)
It's now apparent to me that fishing and hunting treasures and scouring want-ads are all part of a larger human phenomenon, the thrill of the hunt. The anticipation of scoring the big one is as fun as reeling it in. So I continue to examine my pocket change, pan for gold, snoop around auctions and checking want-ads for a replacement for my beloved Fiat 850 Spyder.
I'm happy that now I'm old enough to realize that the anticipation is as fun as the acquisition.



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