I select the charity shops I give stuff to based on whether I can park right outside them.
I am never in a million years going to be organised enough to run that particular errand every time I have collected enough to fill an easily portable plastic bag - nope, I have to fill a Large Box with clothes and homewares and the occasional curtain, and then I have to have the box in the car next time I pass a charity shop I can park outside. It's a very delicate chain of circumstance, I can tell you.
It didn't quite come off yesterday, when, in the rain, on my third pass round the go-round I still couldn't find a space. But what the heck, I thought, I'll double park. All I want to do is dump the box and run. How long can that take?
So I 'parked' the car - well, more 'stopped in the middle of the road', wrestled the box out of the back and made a dash for the Shaw Trust doorway. All this made even more exciting by the presence of a Small Child in my car. (Magic for getting a primo parking space at the supermarket, I can tell you. And then of course they want to push the trolley, play with the scanner all the time, even when it's your turn - y'know, the magic runs out pretty damn quickly. Forget I spoke.) But The Little Treasure in the back seat meant I really had to get a jerk on.
The woman in charge, on the phone at the time, managed by dint of flourishing her eyebrows and waggling her fingers to make me understand that she wanted me to hang about. Which I did. You try hopping nervously and impatiently from foot to foot while carrying a large and heavy box. Go on. When at last all her attention was bestowed on me, stap me if she didn't start picking through the contents of the bloody box. With a 'hmmmm' here and a sad shake of her head there, she informed me that, apart from the odd piece of clothing, she wouldn't take anything I had brought, as 'none of it will sell'.
How on earth does a charity shop get to pick and choose? 'None of it will sell', I ask you! (As 'appens, the minute I got home I hit Freecycle, and half of the stuff is already gone. OK, for free, but it really wouldn't have cost too much in the flippin' shop.) When did charity shops get so damn sniffy about what they stock? Surely clean and operational and no duct tape is enough! Not these days, it seems.