I returned home to see Tyler on the couch watching TV, “Tyler, I have bad news… I was fired.”

“Jesus, Emmet, what are we going to do about the rent?” He said, shocked.

“I don’t know, Tyler, I really don’t know,” at that very moment a very loud ad started playing from the TV.

“Do you need a place to rest your head, but still want the comfort of home? Then come down to my house! It’s literally my house, I converted it into a bed and breakfast! So please, come on down to my house!” The man was ecstatic as images of his house and beautiful, home cooked meals flashed across the screen. Tyler and I seemed to have the exact same thought as we turned to each other and said,

“Let’s do it.”

We gathered around the kitchen table, “First thing first, we need to get some extra money in order to buy some extra beds and whatever else people get at hotels.”

“You’re right, what do you think we could sell?” he asked.

“Well, we could start off by selling your baseball card collection,” before I could even blink, Tyler was pissed.

“Emmet, no! You know how much those cards mean to me! I can’t live without them,” he begged. He was frantic, those cards meant the world to him, and I knew I was asking a lot.

“Look, you can keep one dude, but we need the money. I’m gonna sell my video game consoles. We need all the money we can get for this!” Rent is due in a week, and not only are we gonna have to scrounge up money for that but we’ll also need as much money as possible for our shopping spree.

“Fine, I want to keep my 2010, chrome, Manny Machado card. That card is my future, Emmet,” He requested. It was the first ever baseball card he had ever gotten, and it was worth a whopping fifteen thousand. 

"Alright, Tyler, I know how much it means to you."

We managed to quickly set up a yard sale. It's always great to live in the suburbs, as soon as we put up that crappy cardboard sign, middle-age women flocked to our property. My game consoles sold out in what seemed to be seconds, but then again, who wouldn't buy a Polystation 3 for $20.

“Hey, you!” A woman suddenly yelled to me.

“Hello, can I help you ma’am?” I tried to say politely. This woman looked like the typical soccer mom, bob cut, exaggerated make up, and a good ol’ fashion pyramid scheme branded purse.

“Why is a little boy like you running a yard sale? Where are your parents?” She started to screech. I don’t know how someone could confuse me for a kid, I’m in my mid twenties. I am six foot two, my hair is buzz cut, and I’m a bit bulky.

“Excuse me, but I’m 26 years old,” I tried to say, but she interrupted me.

“Stop lying! Where are your parents?” She yelled. Tyler saw the commotion, and came up to us.

“Miss, what’s the problem?” Tyler asked, gritting his teeth. I’m a lot more patient than him.

“Why are you two boys running a yard sale? Get me your parents!” She demanded. This woman was absolutely crazy. 

Eventually we managed to convince her to leave. She left with a huff and continued to knock down any display or pile she could.

 After a few hours, and many bargaining parents, it seamed like our yard sale was a huge success. Tyler and I managed to make around $700, which is enough to cover rent and have some extra for expenses. I looked over to the floppy haired man, "Tyler, we're gonna make it."