The thing about going to garage sales is that you have to maintain your dignity. You're buying people's old stuff. Stuff that is not good enough for them anymore. They are better than you, that's pretty much what you are telling them when you go to their garage sale. So usually it is easy to cower your head, to acknowledge that you want their old, used, useless-to-them stuff. Not me though. I walk with my head held high, I look the seller in the eyes, I shake their hands. I've got pride.
But sometimes as I am leaving their house I step off the curb and into the street, and occasionally the road is a bit further down than I remember so I trip and flail my arms and fall on my face while tossing my new found treasures through the air, and I am left to hobble away with bloody knees, a twisted ankle and a $3 baby bjorn that was (moments before) in like new condition.
Dignity, always dignity.