Clandestine

So there I was, sitting in my car in the far corner of the Kmart parking lot, where I'd be fairly easy to spot.
I was waiting on a lady I knew only by first, middle, and last name and a Facebook photo, who would arrive in a black Dodge Charger with white stripes.
I hoped I'd recognize her.
The car pulled alongside mine. A man was driving. The woman, looking like she hadn't left the house all day, emerged from the car and came to my window.
"$25, right?" she said as she placed a couple of wadded bills into my hand.
I nodded and handed her the bag.
"Thank you,"
She ducked back into her car and they drove away.
She never even opened the bag.
This has happened before, once, when a woman driving a Tahoe met me in the parking lot of Academy Sports to sell me a turtleneck sweater.
As I drove away from Kmart, I hoped no cops were watching. In this particular neighborhood, the only defense I have is that a Bi-Lo bag of decorative plates in no way resembles a dime bag of an illegal leafy substance.
It's happening all over town. Middle aged women in Camrys meeting in parking lots to exchange cash for "the goods": baby clothes, Raggedy Ann dolls, boots and DVDs.
The Online Yard Sale: It's almost clandestine...except it's not.