Kobey's Swap Meet

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The good stuff is gone before noon and everyone who comes regularly knows it, which is why the early aisles are full of people moving with purpose and coffee.

A stadium parking lot becomes something else entirely on the weekend. Rows of tables under pop-ups, a man who sells nothing but sockets, a woman running more houseplants than a nursery, crates of records that clearly came out of somebody's actual life, and a vintage rack a dealer drove down from Los Angeles to work. It has been running for over fifty years, long enough that regulars know which vendor is worth circling back to and which one always overprices the same lamp.

Sports Arena Boulevard, Saturdays and Sundays, a few dollars at the gate.

Go with the friend who insists they need nothing. Time how long it takes them to start negotiating.