I woke up on our last full day of vacation in Williamsburg, Virginia (Yes, we’re finally there!) cursing our second resort’s small bathrooms.
I mean… come on.
For a girl with big hair this is a very small space to make the magic happen.
And the shower?
One teeny tiny shelf!
I had to put the rest of my things on the floor.
We started the day at the husband’s favorite breakfast spot where he was now greeted with ”The guy who wants two plates of chipped beef on toast is here”.
And seeing that we’d had 2 full weeks of doing everything I wanted to do, I thought it prudent to throw the husband a bone and let him pick our last day’s activities.
As expected, that bit me in the ass.
He chose the Williamsburg Antique Mall… and let me tell you, that’s a whole lotta mall.
I have never in my life seen so much useless crap stuff in one place. It went on forever, aisle after aisle after aisle. The husband was in heaven.
Oh, there were some interesting things.
And some seriously hideous things.
It was hard, but I managed to pass on this quartz rooster head.
And the Christmas tree in a shoe.
But damn, at the one hour mark we’d only managed to cover a little corner of the place.
The building was so huge it had push button call stations for help because it was too damned long a walk back to the front to find a sales clerk.
Two hours in there was a drunken Santa….
And some of the money the husband used during the Vietnam War.
Three hours in there was a pair of wolves on skis…
The ice cube trays I cursed with every breath as a child….
And some questionable artwork complete with psychedelic chickens.
Four hours in there were Civil War era hats and a saleslady who gave me a piece of paper to write down the aisle number, the booth number, the case number and a description of each article we had questions about because no one ever remembers what was where. If you look in the upper left hand corner of the picture you’ll see my hand clutching it.
And no, I wasn’t going to give it to the husband …. I’m not stupid.
The husband?
Happier than the proverbial pig in shit.
Rusty tools….
Rusty tools everywhere!
I passed on more vintage chickens.
And wondered who this wide eyed Santa was going to poke with that…. that….
Whatever the heck that was.
At the four and a half hour mark I had to use the rest room.
Where I did indeed flush my hopes and dreams of ever leaving this place down the toilet.
There was definitely something for everyone.
Even if some of the price tags made you gasp.
Five hours in I told the husband I was too hungry to continue and we needed to go get some lunch.
Yeah.
My worst nightmare came true….
They had a cafe.
Where we had tiny overpriced sandwiches and frozen solid fruit to fortify us for more hours of antique shopping.
It was at this point I knew we’d never leave.
I was doomed.
Too late for that warning…. the husband has had it for years.
He was bound and determined to see every last item in this store or die trying.
And by this time I was happily planning his demise.
Yikes.
Paging Morticia Addams….
And holy crap.
Who in their right mind wants that hanging on their wall?
Six hours in I found a bug collection….
Some chicken humor…
And part of the line to check out.
These people took a number…. and have probably been waiting since June 13, 1976.
But the husband was still going strong.
And if I told you how many rusty old pesticide sprayers we have in the barn already? You’d fear for my safety.
Here’s proof positive there’s a magazine for everything.
And a painting that contains fish bones.
You’re welcome.
SEVEN HOURS in and we weren’t even 2/3’s of the way through.
I knew he wasn’t going to leave without buying something, but by then I’d reached my limit of utterly useless crap antique shopping.
I was on board with the old phone. It could have been fun in the barn…. when he builds that bar he keeps talking about.
You know, the bar he can’t build because he has too much utterly useless crap stuff in the way.
Eight hours in?
I was silently screaming FFS….just pick something and let’s go!
Or maybe I said it out loud, I can’t remember.
So there it is, the result of 8 hours of antique mall shopping.
A giant glass water bottle to add to the other 20 or so giant glass water bottles he currently has collecting cobwebs.
I love him.
I do.
And as long as I keep telling myself that I’ll be fine.
River's world..... 
Eight hours and your hair didn’t fall out? That’s some heavy spray. hahaha
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It’s basically aerosol cement… so yeah. I was good.
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Holy cow! You were in there long enough to become antiques yourselves. I think Santa Clause was holding a candy cane shard shank.
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Ah…. death candy. Good call.
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I think that double-eared bottle with the hideous face would have been my treasure …
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Your wife may not agree.
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Yeah. It probably wouldn’t be used at the dinner table. I would have to keep in my studio and dust it myself …
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Then again, it could be the perfect way to get rid of lingering guests you invited to dinner……
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8 ungodly hours in an antique mall!? Damn girl you have the patience of a saint…..lol.
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8 hours in one store. That’s a record… even for the husband!
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I’m starting to really like your husband. I don’t have any place to put any more crap but I could also have a good time touring a place like that.
He can have my chipped beef on toast, though. I never cared for the stuff, even before someone in a hospital cafeteria whispered a rumor about circumcisions.
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If you like vast useless collections of crap and rusty old tools? He’s your guy.
As for the chipped beef, I don’t like it either.
Even less so after the circumcisions comment. Ack!
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” tiny overpriced sandwiches and frozen solid fruit” that and a picture of SOS is all we get for looking at 4 million ( or at least it seems) pictures of garbage people throw out!?!?!?!?
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Yes. And you’re lucky you got that!
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I am totally on board with that choice – I love those places. You’re a good sport.
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Well, it was good blog fodder …
😉
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I think I would have enjoyed that place. I can always use more oddball critters for my shelf. There had to be something squirrel themed in a store that takes 8 hours to get through…
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Believe it or not I didn’t see any…
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I love looking at junk but 8 hrs is just insane. You must really really love your husband!
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Apparently.
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That’s just insane. You win Wife of the Century. No, Millennium.
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Thank you.
I believe I deserved a medal of valor at the very least…
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I’m surprised he was looking at all those guns while there. After 8 hours there, that’s dangerous!
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Indeed.
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Just think….if Fred and Nick had ever gone antiquing? We’d be looking at 16+ hours. Over several days. I think you and I would have just gone to the bar to wait.
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Most definitely!
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Reminds me of huge flea markets in FL and TN. I always enjoy them, too, perhaps because my husband buys nothing and I seem to find unique handmade items, and we don’t go often enough to upset either of us.
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Hilarious post! I was laughing all the while and thanking the Lord my hubby’s passion is hiking. I don’t know how you survived.
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We like to hike as well. Unfortunately he enjoys scaling large piles of crap just as much….
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That old phone? My grandmother had one like it on the wall if I remember correctly. Or a similar looking one.
Anyway, never ever invite me to go there. Instead, we’ll send the men and go to the spa. 🙂 But not before stealing their credit and debit cards first. 🙄
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That sounds like a good plan!
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