Being a regular at a thift store

I think of it like this: if your dog finds a sandwich one day under a bush on your regular route, your dog will demand that you give him a second to check under that bush on every walk for the rest of his life.

Being a regular at a thrift store is the same. I religiously check the same sections where I’ve found gold on visits from long ago. And I’ve learned intimate rhythms of my store: what times they roll out new racks. Where the cool girls leave their reject piles. Lesser-known try-on mirrors. Life is good.