A twenty minute drive and my Jeep pulled into the parking lot of Main Street Thrift.

Dammit! Someone parked in my lucky spot.

I always parked in the same spot, the second parking space from the end, on the first row. Call it superstition, but it worked for me. Disappointed, I quickly found a spot in the side parking lot, and hiked to the storefront in the sweltering heat. Perspiration soaked the back of my shirt causing it to stick uncomfortably, adding to my irritation.

The strong smell of air freshener and grandma’s attic assaulted my nose long before I reached the cool air of the store. The air was cool, not cold, and did little to suppress the sheen of sweat that dampened my clothes. Did they really need that much fragrance to overpower the stench, I wondered, annoyed at the whole situation.

I grabbed a buggy, and looked around for the tell-tale sign of resellers. I knew I was being hypocritical, but I hated the competition. A couple of them stalked my page religiously, hoping to score something cheap, only to mark it up and resell it in their antique booths. I told myself at least I’m getting paid, but it still pissed me off to no end. “Do your own work!” I wanted to yell, but I figured that a customer is a customer, even if it is a lazy reseller who wants to profit from my discoveries.

Finding the store relatively empty, except for an older couple and a few associates stocking the clothing racks, I headed straight for the housewares section, my bread and butter, so to speak. As I slowly stalked the aisles, I scanned each shelf for the source of my early wake up call, being sure to look behind things and on the bottom shelves. Stockers were known to hide “the good stuff” so they could come back and purchase it after their shift. It’s supposedly not allowed, but I had seen it done on several occasions. Surely something would call to me. I hadn’t been dragged out of bed for nothing, right?

Making progress down the aisle, I stepped carefully around a grandmother digging through a stack of plates. I assumed she was a grandmother by her matronly dress and advanced age, but that is just a guess. The woman stopped me, pointing at the plates and asked me to hand her the large blue plate sticking out of a precarious stack. It wasn’t too hard for me to bend over and unwedge the plate she wanted from the pile. It was a large blue platter. Not worth much on the resale market, but she seemed happy with it. She beamed a large toothless smile when I handed her the plate, and I caught the faint scent of cookies.

For a minute, I remembered a game my dad and I would play when we were out searching. We would make up stories about the people in the stores and what they were looking for. I decided to play the game one more time for old times sake and made up a story about the old lady.

I smiled as I imagined the cookie scented woman as a lonely grandmother living alone in a single room bungalow with her three cats. She was in love with her widowed neighbor, Mr. Smith, and today she was looking for a big plate to stack all the chocolate chip cookies she made him this morning. She hoped to surprise him this afternoon and invite him to an early supper. She just needed to find the right plate to display them on.

Mr. Smith was the elderly man looking at the appliances to my right that smelled of burnt plastic. I wrinkled my nose as the acrid smell radiated from his crisp pressed shirt, the top button tightly buttoned against his neck. He didn’t know the grandmother was in love with him and was looking for a microwave to replace the one he caught on fire this morning when he forgot to add water to his teriyaki beef microwave noodles. He lived alone, and only ate microwavable meals.

I hadn’t played the game in a long time, and it released a few emotions that I had pushed back into the abyss. I didn’t feel like expanding the narrative too much and risk opening the floodgates again. Amused by the simple story I created about the couple, I continued searching through the shelves for whatever I was supposed to find.

Where is it dad? I thought to myself. You got me up for this…

I wandered up and down the aisles again just in case I missed it the first time. Disappointment filled me when nothing seemed to be calling out to me. I wandered up and down the aisles, searching.

Just before I threw in the towel and admitted defeat, the high-pitched squeal of wheels dragging across the linoleum floor and the tinkling sound of glassware alerted me to the new merchandise being brought out. A despondent employee pushed the protesting cart in my direction.

With the cold concentration of a predator, I eyed the cart as the associate rolled it by. Reaching out with lightning reflexes I grabbed the pink Pyrex mixing bowl set sitting precariously close to the edge.

“Yes!”

I clutched the near minty set of pink gooseberry Pyrex bowls taped together with the amazing prices of $7.97 scrawled across the tape. Normally I would have grumbled, who in their right mind prices things such crazy amounts, but at that particular moment, I didn’t care. I wiggled and giggled and did a happy dance as I celebrated my discovery.

I was confident one of my regular clients would willingly pay twenty times that amount for the set and throw in lunch as an added thank you. The sweet grandmother who smelled like cookies and was rifling through the plates earlier shot me a death stare. I was pretty sure I heard her cursing me as well. Not today, grandma. I hugged the treasure to my chest. Satisfied my mission was complete, I clutched the bowls, left the buggy sitting in the aisle, and walked confidently to the front of the store.

Standing in line waiting to pay and run, I noticed a striking necklace sitting on a velvet display behind the glass. It looked way too opulent to be in a thrift store and I wondered if I could make some money selling it. I wished I knew more about jewelry, other than the standard markings for gold and silver. The only other name I knew was Tiffany & Company.

What the hell. I mentally shrugged. Today seemed to be my lucky day.

I flagged down an associate and asked to see the necklace.

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” she oozed as she took it out of the display. “We just got this in.”

As she placed the necklace on the counter, I flinched at the handwritten price tag. $49.94 was a lot to gamble on a maybe.

The necklace was a choker with a huge green stone set in the middle of a large silver filigree medallion. Delicate silver chains and green stones draped from the bottom of the medallion, giving it a gothic look. The stone, a beautifully cut green gem, almost seemed to glow with an irresistible energy. I felt drawn to it as if the spiritual magnetism of it was calling out to me, making me want to touch it.

I assumed the attraction was because green was my favorite color, or it was because my name was Jade, or maybe because it was the color of my eyes, eyes like my dad’s, deep and sparkling green. I absolutely loved the color green. So much, I decorated my apartment with pops of green everywhere. Even my Jeep was emerald green.

Nonetheless, the iridescence of the stone begged me to touch it. As I softly caressed the stone a buzzing vibration of energy raced up my arm. At the same time, a loud ringing started in my ears. I felt like I stuck my tongue on a nine volt battery but it was stronger and completely unexpected.

“What the fuck!”

I was shocked at the sensation racing up my arm and the ringing in my ears. I quickly withdrew my hand and looked at the associate sheepishly. She seemed annoyed at my use of profanity but was too nice to comment. I thanked her for taking out the necklace and walked towards the checkout counter with my prized Pyrex. At least I found what I was supposed to find.

“Thanks dad,” I mouthed silently as I paid for my purchase. I walked to the Jeep in a daze. Stunned. I sat there cradling the Pyrex bowls in my lap wondering, what the hell just happened? It took me several minutes to process the incident.

The necklace looked way too expensive to be one of those gag gifts that shocked you, like the packets of gum you could buy at the novelty stores. I must have discharged static electricity when I touched the stone, but that didn’t explain the ringing in my ears. Extremely confused, I headed out to make the rounds of the other thrift stores in search of treasures to resell.

Hours later, I found myself sitting in the driver's seat of my Jeep, reliving the whole confusing necklace incident. Again. Several plastic shopping bags sat in the seat next to me. Although I was successful in finding items to resell to my customers, the necklace haunted me all day. The luminescent green stone shimmered in the back of my mind. A constant sensation that ate away at my sensibilities.

Leaning back against the seat, I couldn’t help but question everything that happened. Why did it shock me when I touched it? Was it really glowing and pulsating? I Squinted against the setting sun, trying to remember. I think it was. Why did my ears start ringing? Would the necklace still be there if I went back?

I bit my lip as I contemplated my next move. Should I go back and get it? I thought hard as I traced my hands across the steering wheel. Feeling the leather as my hands slid against it.

I really had no clue about selling jewelry. I tended to stick with the things I knew my customers wanted, vintage glassware, dishes, the odd antique here and there, and vintage linens. My online sales page, Jade’s Treasure Chest, had 1.3 thousand members, each with their own addictions. I mean collections. I searched thrift stores, estate sales, and garage sales to find the items I knew they couldn’t live without. Jewelry was a gamble I had never been willing to take.

Sometime between Easy Savers and Best Thrift, I messaged my customer, Nancy, about the Pyrex bowls I found. She was ecstatic and promised to come by my apartment and pick them up. Most of my clients lived in the surrounding area and made arrangements to pick up the things they bought from my page, others paid the shipping charges. I had sold to Nancy before and remembered her penchant for pink.

Tired and hungry, I looked at the bags sitting on the passenger seat and realized this was going to be a long night of taking pictures and posting items for the “Treasure Chest.” I better grab some food on the way home, I thought as I started the Jeep. I decided Chinese food sounded divine and headed towards The Happy Panda.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Nancy didn’t waste any time getting to my apartment after work. She knocked on the door just as I was finishing up my General Tso’s Chicken and digging into the Lo Mein noodles. Sighing, I set the fork down. Determined to return and finish the delectable concoction. I have no clue what they use to make the noodles taste so good.

I barely opened the door before she was pushing her way in. “Girl, I can’t believe you found these for me,” she squealed as she jumped up and down in my doorway.

“Come in, they’re on the dining room table,” I said, leading the way down the hall. “I want you to check them over before you run away with them.”

Nancy reverently picked up each bowl and held it up to the dining room light. She had a look of absolute wonder as she slowly turned the bowl, inspecting the paint. Not a single flea bite or paint scratch showed. I had looked them over briefly when I got home, knowing that the condition greatly affected the price.

“These are in amazing shape, Jade.” She turned each bowl over in wonder. “How did you find them? And in such great shape?”

I smiled at her. “I’m lucky I guess.”

No need to tell her I had an early morning wakeup call that told me to go shopping. A voice from beyond the grave? The universe guided me to Pyrex in a thrift store. The absurdity of that would definitely score me a cushy padded room for one. Nope, I'll keep that little bit to myself.

“I don’t think these were ever used,” she said. After thoroughly inspecting each bowl, Nancy placed them on the table and handed me several hundred dollar bills folded in half. “I mean it, Jade, you are the absolute best. I have been collecting Pyrex for years and I never found the quality you do.” Nancy slyly glanced around the dining room, “did you find anything else I have to have?”

“Your bowls were the best purchase of the day Nancy. But I have a ton of stuff to post online tonight.” The large pile of shopping bags sat ominously by the coffee table. Taunting me.

Nancy started walking toward the door. “Well I better get going, I’m meeting my boyfriend for dinner.”

I was instantly jealous. “Nothing like spending a Friday night alone.” I walked her out while muttering under my breath.

“I will be on pins and needles waiting to see what you post Jade,” Nancy called over her shoulder while she opened her car door and carefully settled her treasures in the passenger seat before closing the door.

As I waved goodbye, a feeling of loneliness enveloped me. At least I have Chinese food I thought as I walked back into the apartment. Alone, posting items to sell online, is not how a single twenty-four year old should be spending her Friday night.

“Well, I better get started if I’m going to finish,” I grumbled. Grabbing the container of Lo Mein noodles, I plopped myself onto the couch, opened my laptop and started typing up the descriptions.

Hours later, I finally posted the last item on my sales page. I was exhausted but my nerves were still zinging from earlier. Tension squeezed my neck and shoulders as I laid back on the couch to relax. I grabbed the soft, green fleece blanket folded at the end of the couch and pulled it up to my chin. Snuggling under the softness, I tried to ignore the little voice in my head telling me to relieve the pressure. The horny little voice got louder and louder as I tossed and turned, trying to relax. “If I had a damn boyfriend, I wouldn’t have this problem,” I muttered, frustrated.

Finally admitting defeat, I sat up and looked up an adult entertainment website on my laptop. I just need a little visual stimulation to help get things going, I reasoned. I mean a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Right?

I quickly scrolled through the videos, skipping over the stereotypical blondes until I found a video of a curvy brunette and a buff looking guy. Intrigued, I pressed play and watched the camera pan across an outdoor scene. A man walked into the scene bare-chested wearing only low-slung leather pants that left little to the imagination. His rippling abs and commanding presence immediately got my attention. I took the place of the brunette in my mind, and felt my body begin to respond. Wetness pooled between my legs as the video continued. Oh yeah, this will definitely do the trick, I thought as I laid down on the couch and got comfortable.

Horny Little Voice: 1 | Moral Conscious: 0