I overdosed on yard sales and thrift stores during the past few months, so I took a little break this weekend. There usually aren't too many yard sales around here on Memorial Day weekend because many people, including us, go "down the shore". My father lives in Brigantine, which is a tiny island directly north of Atlantic City, NJ. We spent every summer there...hanging out at the now-defunct Brigantine Castle, working at Reflections Arcade, boogie-boarding in the ocean and throwing pennies at the hookers along the strip in Atlantic City. Good times. Oh...maybe I should go into more details about the whole prostitute thing.
When I got my driver's license at the age of 17, my parents let me drive the car around the island. I was not allowed to leave the island. Absolutely NO going over the bridge. But there was nothing to do in Brigantine. Needless to say, each night that I was allowed to drive the car, my sister Erin and our best friend Bridget would drive to Atlantic City or one of the other towns along the Jersey Shore. Occasionally, we would scrounge up some change from under the floor mats of the old red Sunbird and throw coins at the hookers along the main drag in Atlantic City. It was usually accompanied by a chorus of "Buy some new clothes"! I don't know what the hell we were thinking. These were some hard-core ho's.
On one occasion, our cousins were visiting from out of state. Like the good tour guides that we were, Erin and I took them on the regular rounds of AC. One of my cousins snapped a picture of a hooker as we drove by her. We failed to mention to our cousin one of the most important rules of hooker-taunting: Keep an eye on the traffic lights. She didn't realize that there was a red light about 20 feet ahead. The hooker ran up to the car and sprayed mace into the open window. Luckily, the light turned green before she did anything else, and I drove away wiping the tears from my eyes.
I'm sorry that this story doesn't have anything to do with yard sales or vintage finds or anything like that. Maybe I should change the story to say that we were on the way to a yard sale when we got maced by a hooker. But that wouldn't be very honest now would it?
Anyway, here's the part where I mention a vintage find. I picked this up at the thrift store at lunchtime today. It is a little homemade spice rack/cupboard. It is about 18 inches high. Those little glass jars would be a great place to store pennies for my next trip to Atlantic City.
[Edited to add]: There is breaking hooker news. Read the update here!
That is such a great story. My mom is from New Jersey. We go to the beach and you go down the shore.
That castle is very cool!! Is it haunted? I'm sure it is.
Love the spice rack. Good find!
Rosemary
Posted by: Rosemary | May 29, 2007 at 10:51 PM
I love that story!
Posted by: pam | May 30, 2007 at 09:44 AM
Sugar, you can tell us stories like that anytime you want!
Posted by: Debbie | May 30, 2007 at 11:15 AM
Funny Funny!
Posted by: Farmerswife | May 30, 2007 at 04:42 PM
Hey, Col, except for the fact that your 1980's escapades in AC totally alluded me and Dad, I really think you have a flare for writing. I seriously think that your viewers would like to see the other half of you. You, my child, are a riot !!! Love, Mama
Posted by: Mom | May 31, 2007 at 06:31 PM
HI,just came over to visit via Jenny Holiday and thought we should say HI! Your stories are great, I think they do add to the fun,more like reading a magazine article than just flicking through the pictures! Pop over to Lilly Cottage some time, i think we may have all been made from the same batch! Have a fantastic day, Linda Lilly Cottage.
Posted by: Linda and Laura Lilly Cottage | May 31, 2007 at 06:44 PM
Oh my gosh that is a great story...still giggeling although I am sure you didn't laugh until well after the mace and the adreniline wore off.
Great cabinet by the way...that is so cool.
Posted by: Natasha | May 31, 2007 at 07:21 PM
Hello I'm new to your blog. But I love it and I love our AC story. It caught my eye cause I have spent many summers at my sis's BNB in Ocean City and well, it was just fun to hear it. And I also had to take a hiatus from yard saling and thrif shopping. all very funny, Thanks.
Posted by: BECKY | May 31, 2007 at 09:55 PM
you. are. a. crack. up! and a girl after my own wretched heart!
Posted by: dede warren | June 01, 2007 at 08:42 AM
What a wonderful story............ You have had me laughing since you were a wee little girl !
Posted by: Petuniarose | June 01, 2007 at 10:47 AM
Ahh, yes ... the hooker macing ... good times! Oh to be 14 again and riding around AC with my cool cousins!
Posted by: Cousin Lauren | June 01, 2007 at 06:10 PM
Too funny!!!!!
Posted by: Elizabeth | June 05, 2007 at 08:22 AM
OMG, this is way to funny for words!!!
Posted by: casapinka | June 13, 2007 at 12:53 PM
Hi Chick! I'm basking down here in Charlotte, NC but it's never quite as oppressive as the evening our freshly sunburnt skin, along with any exposed orifices, were ablaze with the feverish seasoning of our suburban pasttime. How utterly silly and shallow we were? Those poor slobs were no doubt around our age even! And to our merry amusement we gleefully used them like every other soul out there for mere pennies! It is a sign of a happy childhood when there was no absolute way of relating to those unfortunate, peppery (heehee)girls that lived blocks away from our cloudless and innocent playgrounds. Now as a mother I can only hope my children will be a tad more empathetic but if my two little monkeys have half as much blithely fun with their cousins and friends as we did then I think they'll turn out pretty good :) (a few pennies and a couple spritz of mace is all it takes) PS. Did you get the whore-pics? Patty emailed them to you today. Every 10 years or so I recall the story to whomever it is glimpsing at my past memories I keep in those ancient things called PHOTO-ALBUMS and giggle childishly each time!
Posted by: Megan H | August 17, 2007 at 04:27 PM
Oh and those glass jars would be perfect for those prostitute-pennies! Your kids will undoubtedly steal them from you and unknowingly make you proud. How sweet, I'm getting teary:)
Posted by: Megan H | August 17, 2007 at 04:38 PM
Wow, I feel I should elaborate just in case there's a few of your readers who have never experienced that lovely, spicy key-chain weapon hookers and runners seem to keep piously at the ready. As the witty cousin whose camara-clicking taunted and enraged the street walkers I feel obligated to warn others of the physical pain mace causes. The initial stream exposed to us through the opened car window was immediately absorbed into every exposed mucus membrane and siphoned into our sun-crackled, thirsty pores. (Like squeezing a fresh lemon into your eyes and then bathing your normally coolwhip-white but now scarlett-glistening body in jalapeno juice, only worse. Like when a friend sneaks a tangy, orange habanero on your sandwich when you graciously get up to get them a refill, only your whole integumentary system is your tongue!) Being the gracious ex-friend of a TexMex, I can say that I dabbled in peppers, most of the time unknowingly and unwillingly and I have personal, 1st hand accounts of their effects on the glands of unsuspecting victims. I would have to admit though that the whole macing-in-AC experience prepared me for my gas mask training in the USAF when I didn't quite tighten my mask correctly in the allotted 1.7 seconds the funny drill Sgts give you. It was amazing how fast I recalled my prior macing knowledge. I tried to compare and contrast the 2 as the piquant sensation of peppers singing my eye balls and nasal cavity as I uncontrollably(and unattractively) melted my lungs, like good ol' AC jellyfish, out of my 2 nostrils. I believe the A.C.macing of 1990 was easier on my body as a whole because I was on an adventure with my cool cousins and I didnot have an irate military bull screaming obscenities about how I would have never of made it in 'Nam. (I tried my hardest not to laugh) But seriously readers, what you must remember is that the seething pain is much more tolerable if your laughing your ass off at some dumb, pathetic, 2cent whores along side your young, beautiful, educated and loved-on-this-earth cousins or friends! Wow, as selfish and unsisterly as it sounds, I'm so glad my life was not theirs! Anyway, just thought I'd clarify :)
Posted by: Megan H | August 18, 2007 at 01:06 AM
Colleen, I enjoyed meeting you and you're sisters at Renningers on Saturday ( I'm the girl from Scranton who took all that fabric off you're hands).I showed my mother the white tablecloth with the green trim and she loved, loved ,loved it so I gave it to her cause I'M SUCH A GOOD DAUGHTER! You guys had the best and most affordable stuff. Before I found you I was beginning to think my day was going to be a waste of time. I thought most of the dealers were overpriced. I found a woman selling Vera Neumann cloth napkins set of 4 for 35 bucks. I found a set at a yard sale in Avalon, NJ last week for a buck. I told her so. I don't think she appreciated that. Anyway, Hope to run in to one of you're sales again.
Posted by: marilyn currey | October 01, 2007 at 11:22 AM
That story is great! I discovered your blog a few weeks ago and posted it on my list of favorite blogs on my own: The Antiquer's Rant. Audrey
Posted by: The Ranter | February 14, 2009 at 04:29 PM
you are a very good, (and might i add) funny storyteller!
Posted by: Karmen Jones | November 16, 2009 at 02:20 AM
Ah, the jersey shore. Greenheads (esp. at Brigantine) and cruising the streets of Atlantic City. Only when I was a teen, I had even more cojones than you and your friends...we WALKED down Pacific Ave, right in the midst of those girls. How's that for guts? Don't remember ever being maced, but I did get a few job offers.
We were more the Long Beach Island crowd, year round, or "LBI" as they call it today. But I will never forget the Brigantine Castle, was and continues to be the best haunted house ever!!
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