You spin me right round baby, right round....

The Goodwill bins have been very nice to me lately.

The atmosphere continues to be less than Nordstrom-esque, what with the crazy digging behavior that emerges when new bins are wheeled out, the grabbing, the singleness of purpose to be the first to get at the 'new' merch.

And there are the children, running everywhere, many of whom are or soon may be crying.

But lately, I'll forego the negligible atmosphere because of what I've been finding.

The record in the photo is just one of my recent bins scores.

I blogged about the records in an earlier entry entitled Haunted, and didn't mention this particular 78 in that entry. The record, by Billy Murray, is signed by the artist, which was an apparent cache for the person who bought it from me recently.

This record, which I procured from the bins for approximately 10 cents, sold for 128.50.

Woo hoo!

Mr. Fabulous and I dropped by the bins on Saturday, and I found yet another Coach purse, in perfect condition. I found an antique Hanson's dairy scale, a cool pair of vintage children's roller skates, some very nifty fabric swatches from a high-end fabric store that I'll chat about another time, a complete vintage Ouija board, in the box, a 1956 Yahtzee game that had never been used, and a fabulous Italian leather carry-on piece of luggage that's extremely rare and valuable.

That's just a fraction of what I got. And Mr. Fab found a bunch of other very cool stuff.

We combined our finds into one cart so we got a price break, and together we spent a total of $42.

I'm still kind of stunned, not only at what we've found, but at how many of these professional binsters have bypassed so many valuable items. Mr. Fab and I have talked about it, and my sister and I have tried to figure it out as well. It's not because the bins are filled to bursting with treasures. Like an all you can eat buffet with nothing but junk food on the menu, so many people go straight for the trashy stuff and load up in a nonstop kind of way.

I'm not complaining. It's just mystifying.

It spins me right round baby, right round - like a record, baby.