Rummage Sale

I've just spent the last 6 or so hours working The Writer's tag sale. Pardon my language, but it was a total shit show, as expected.

I have a few tales I think you'll enjoy:

1: In which The Writer tries to guilt me into something

I brought along some of my own personal items to sell at the tag sale, and one of these was a set of 3 glass kitchen jars. Approximately 2 minutes after setting them out, The Writer mentioned that they would be perfect for her to put coffee, etc. in (Never mind that she has jars ALL over her house). I wasn't planning on just giving them to her, so I told her that I was going to try and sell them and that my roommate wanted them if i didn't sell them (This was true!).
Not to be deterred, as I walked away a bit later, to take care of something, I see The Writer run over to my table, grab 2 of the jars and take off up the porch stairs with them. I chased after her to explain to her that I wanted to leave them out for awhile to try and sell them.

The Writer then pulled me aside to have "a word with me" and informed me that she wanted them because this is her a business to her and this was going to help her pay her rent.

First: I thought they were for coffee, not to sell after stealing them from me
Second: No, she doesn't need this to help pay her rent, she does that just fine without ripping off her assistant
Third: Although I do just about everything else for her, since when did it become my responsibility to help her pay her rent??

So I told her 1 & 2 of this list, and then when she refused to give them back, made her at least pay me my asking price for the jars. . .

I then informed her that I didn't feel comfortable with her taking/buying any more of my stuff because I knew she was just going to go behind my back and sell it for more than it was worth

She appeared nonplussed. Such a good actress, that one!'

2: In which The Writer tries to sell something of mine out from under my nose

I brought a scarf to this tag sale that is old and for winter. As such, I threw it in the free box since I didn't think anyone would pay for it.

The Writer saw it and said it was gorgeous and tried to commandeer it. I literally took it out from her hand, but it in the free box and told her that I wanted it to stay there for someone else, NOT HER. She already has enough stuff. I made sure to "joke" about it per our previous conversation (rolling my eyes right now)

I noticed several hours later, my scarf had mysteriously migrated over to the tarp full of clothes The Writer was selling for around $3.

Riiight. . .

Well, two can play this game! I kept an eye on it, and as soon as she left the lawn for something, I snatched my scarf back and hid it in my car, so she wouldn't be able to get her paws on it.

Ridiculous, I know. The Writer just brings out the 10 year old in me.

I then proceeded to watch my table like a hawk all day, to make sure nothing else disappeared under strange circumstances.

Jeeze Louise, that woman drives me nuts!