I grew up in an antique store. My grandmother owned it. My mother worked there.
Once a month, my mom had a booth at the local flea market. I always accompanied her, spending hours walking the aisles, scoring comic books and action figures and movie memorabillia with the skill of a seasoned pro. They taught me the value of knowing a bargain, and better still, appreciating that rare find for a fraction of the cost.
Friday, when Mark Guss and I ventured onto Marco Island to seek out hurricane warning flags and watch the ongoing evacuation, we spotted a funny sign scrawled over the boarded windows of a local Goodwill thrift store. I promised not to mention “The Flintstones’’ when writing about Hurricane Wilma, but this sign was too precious.
“Wilma,’’ it read, “Fred is not on Marco. Try Bedrock!!”
We stopped so Guss could get a photo, and then Kathy DeSmet walked up. She manages the store, and welcomed us inside.
On an island filled with beautiful mansions and upscale marinas, the irony of a Goodwill was not lost on DeSmet. The donated merchandise inside, however, was even better.
“Better than Bloomingdales,” DeSmet said.
And she wasn’t lying.
Versace suits. Coach handbags. Designer shoes costing upwards of $250 in a store.
DeSmet pulled a Tommy Bahama shirt off the rack, it’s tag still affixed. The shirt had never been worn. It cost more than $60 retail. Goodwill’s price? Less than $10.
Guss asked about the perks that must come with working there. Not only a store discount, but also that she probably got dibs on the best stuff before any customer could even lay claim.
She shook her head. Everything has to go on the floor for at least 24 hours before she can take it.
Did it matter where she might put - or hide - it on the floor, Guss asked.
DeSmet smiled. And, like someone who knows and appreciates a great bargain, refused to say.

Kathy DeSmet, right, talks to a friend, Lee Bosack, Friday inside the Marco Island Goodwill. [Photo by Mark Guss]