Flipping Trash on the Streets of Philadelphia
Lindsey Nolen
Growing up, I didn’t exactly understand what having an “entrepreneurial spirit” meant—but I sure knew I liked making money. From setting up a stand to sell Pop-Tarts and bottled water (we didn’t have lemonade, so I improvised) to raking leaves for relatives, I treasured the ability to work hard and reap all the monetary rewards.
Looking back on the development of my strong work ethic, I believe a large part of it stems from following in the footsteps of my mother. In addition to always holding down a full-time job, she was constantly making money on the side by selling Mary Kay cosmetics and by writing resumes for friends and friends’ friends.
As I got older, I began to gain work experience of my own in a variety of jobs. My first position came in the form of being a clerk at the dentist office where I’d been a patient since I was a toddler. Then, I became a correspondent (and later staff writer) at my local newspaper. Moving into college, I constantly held down a restaurant job to pay my bills, but I soon realized the small paychecks every other week were simply not cutting it.
Being resourceful, I turned to the internet to help boost my income and ended up dubbing myself the “Queen of Craigslist.” I started to make money by writing resumes for fellow Craigslisters, selling self-made paintings (under the title of “Lindsey Nolen Official”), and I even got a few gigs as an extra in movies. (I once played a dead girl in a remake of a movie called “The Prodigal Son”).
After college and amidst transitioning into adulthood, I became busier and Craigslist arguably became a little more dangerous. I was living in Philadelphia at the time, working a full-time journalism position by day and waitressing by night. I didn’t have much time to continue searching for online gigs. Nevertheless, my entrepreneurial nature did not subside and I was always looking for innovative ways to add to my bank account.
One morning as I opened my front door to head out for the day, I found myself faced with quite the surprise: an armless, headless mannequin standing upright on the curb outside of my front door. (I assumed, then and now, that my next-door neighbor had decided the worn dummy used to display or alter clothes had served its purpose and needed to go.) Although it was clear that the mannequin was unwanted, I immediately knew what needed to be done on my end. I brought the figure inside my living room, took a few photos and posted it on Facebook sales for $100. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity pass me by.
Within the hour, I had three people express interest in the mannequin from Facebook Marketplace, and I sold it to the woman able to pick it immediately—before anyone had time to change their mind. Veering on the safe side, I packed the figure up, transported it to the restaurant where I worked, and had a bouncer come outside with me as I made the successful transaction (just in case).
And that is how I became addicted to selling trash.
For the next several weeks, Thursday night (garbage night) became this twentysomething’s version of Christmas (but with other people’s unwanted items, rather than beautifully wrapped gifts). I’d wander up and down the street peeking into trash piles to see if there was anything interesting worth selling online. Although some people may have considered the sight a little concerning, I choose to think of it in a more “American Pickers-inspired” way. To my surprise, there was a lot of good stuff scattered across the sidewalks and within trash bins.
This waste-selling “addiction” eventually got to the point where my friends and family became genuinely concerned for my wellbeing. (I guess selling garbage to strangers on the internet didn’t exactly sound like the safest hobby for a young woman.) Eventually, I got the point. I stopped selling trash, but the hustle remained as strong as ever. Instead of sorting through junk to find treasures, I now stick to freelancing for a number of publications, running social media accounts, and consulting.
Although my garbage selling days are dwindling, should the day come where I have a child who asks me for money, I’ll respond with: “Back when I was your age, I was flipping trash on the streets of Philadelphia.”
Because that’s hustling.
Lindsey Nolen is a Philadelphia, Pa. native who has since lived in numerous cities but calls Jacksonville, Fla. home. She graduated from NC State University with a major in Communication Media and minors in Journalism and Middle Eastern Studies. Today she is a Digital Content Producer for a news station, while producing freelance content and managing social media on the side. She is the proud mother of her dog-hter, Nora.
