It was an unusual circumstance in which my companion had an illustrious Thursday off. A Thursday that all the antique stores closed on Tuesday and Wednesdays would be open. AHA! A BUCKET LIST!

And this first one was a riot. We drove all the way there (GPS fucking with me the entire time, because why not) and when we got there we found a building with a very small parking lot of sorts fitting about five cars. It was full. Luckily one of them was leaving, an old couple who seemed VERY confused I was waiting for their spot.

We checked out the yard first. The yard which legitimately had a fire exit… In case all the junk spontaneously combusted I suppose. It was fun junk too. Yard decorations, old street signs, a cross gravestone (with no name – probably either an extra or replaced by something else.) There were some big ceramic jars and a wild assortment of random things all packed into a very small area. It was like being in Maine again!

Inside was much the same. Just really random things all piled up in a small space, the people in the shop talking about how they have to sell things for the price they’re at to make a profit. I don’t know why anyone would try to haggle here, everything already seemed cheap considering the other prices in the area. There was even a drawer full of glass apothecary bottles I had to pry myself away from. Yes, they’re cool, what would you do with them though? MAKE SPELL BOTTLES? You’re not a witch, cool your tits.

There was also a little area for a local glass artist who had some adorable sea creatures. The rest of the shop had everything from old can labels and coupons, to a few creepy masks, to a seriously cool old leather cat carrier. It looked like it had been custom made for Hannibal Lecter’s cat and I looooved it. But alas, I am catless. Woe is me.

All and all I liked this shop. It clashed violently with all the other chichi froufrou upscale antique stores in the area. This was a common man’s store. And there’s nothing wrong with that!