Procrastinators Beat the Clock at Bustling Swap Meet

When Mike Toler and Scott Ward arrived at Kobey’s San Diego Swap Meet at midday Christmas Eve, they knew they were cutting it close. With 12 hours to go until Christmas, neither 25-year-old had bought a single gift.

Ninety minutes later, however, the twosome was making swift progress. Toler, an ironworker from Pacific Beach, had a miniature drum set for his son, headphones for a brother and two “Captain Condom” T-shirts for his dad. Ward, a mechanic from North Park, carried a framed photo of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle and a radio.

“We’re speed-shopping,” Toler said as he walked purposefully past the parrots and power saw blades, the chopsticks and wet suits on display in the Sports Arena parking lot. “We’re on a deadline,” Ward said. “If we don’t have presents by tomorrow, we’re dead.”

Toler and Ward were among thousands of San Diegans who headed to the makeshift bargain center over the weekend in search of the perfect last-minute buy.

According to Chris Haesloop, the swap meet’s general manager, 20,000 people paid $1 admission Saturday for the privilege of strolling amid booths stocked with cowbells, cacti, lingerie and license plate frames. (One said “Waitresses Serve It Hot.”) By noon Sunday, he said, it looked like more of the same.

But many of the vendors who had paid $18 apiece for the chance to sell on Christmas Eve said their sales were down. Indeed, many customers seemed to share the attitude of one blue jean-clad woman, who scolded her daughter as she browsed.

“Don’t touch!” she said. “If you break it, Daddy will have to buy it. And he’s not in the mood to buy nothing.”

Tom and Norene Ruhman said they were feeling the crunch. Most weekends for four years, the couple has been selling everything from surgical instruments to stun guns. (“They’ll paralyze you,” Tom said. “Instantly.”) Compared to other items this Christmas, the stun guns have sold well, they said. But business in general?

“It’s a dud,” Tom said.

Alfred Baron, a purveyor of brass knickknacks, agreed.

“They call me the most successful man at the swap meet,” he said as he picked up a solid brass toilet with a movable seat. “That’s because I’ve got some unusual things.”

Still, he said, the trade has been slow for everyone since April. Last year, it rained on the weekend before Christmas, “and we still did better than this year.”

Even if merchandise was moving more sluggishly than usual, the yuletide spirit was sure to inspire a few of the many customers who eyed a prominently displayed throw rug--a brightly woven reproduction of Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper,” the fresco that depicted Jesus Christ and his disciples.

Other items that vied for a place under the tree: andirons, a boomerang, croquet mallets, rubber dinosaurs, Elvis towels, fishing lures, glue, hammocks, isotonic dietary supplements, a portrait of John F. Kennedy (life-size), luggage, marbles, neon beer signs, palm readers (who promised to answer “Questions of Love, Money, Future”), rhinestones, roller skates, surfboards, tangerines, Lt. Uhura’s face (featured on a Star Trek commemorative plate), wind chimes and a variety of zebra-print seat covers.

In addition to the wide, wide selection, customers and vendors said, the swap meet offered something that is unavailable at major department stores: the chance to barter.

“You can’t do it in Bullock’s,” said Daphne Michie, 16, whose father, Chuck, wore a Santa Claus hat as he peddled his wares: space-saver hangers and a gadget that shreds ribbon into decorative strips.

“You want $8, they say $6, you say $7.50--it’s fun!” Chuck said.

Derek LaBorie, who recently moved to California from Vermont, carried a hard-won bargain with pride: a long-necked wine bottle as tall as his waist.

“She wanted $10. I offered her $5. I told her, ‘This is just going from your attic to mine,’ and I got it for $7,” he said. The bottle and a videotape of the movie “Batman” (a steal, he said, at $12) would be waiting under the tree for his brother Darren--if only Derek could find him again in the waning crowd of shoppers.

Around 2 p.m., less than an hour before they had to repack their wares and refold their display tables, vendors sounded more desperate than the most frantic Christmas shopper.

“Prices aren’t set in stone,” one woman implored. “Anything you like, we can do better.”

“It’s a helluva buy,” another vendor said to a man who was examining a wrench. “A helluva buy.”

Mike Kernodle, a 19-year-old member of SEAL Team One at the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado, had to agree. Under one arm, he carried a framed black-and-white photo of Marilyn Monroe that he had picked up for a girlfriend for $5.30, including tax.

“It’s not a bad deal, including the frame,” he said.