Alicia Robles, of Robles Produce, quickly makes change for customers at Wednesday's Galt Flea Market. (Jennifer M. Howell/News-Sentinel)

The Bargaining Life

For some, the Galt Flea Market is a way to pass a few hours. For others, like Ernesto Robles and Jamie Chang, it's a way of life.

Men with stained khaki pants and long knives stand in the aisle, offering slices of apples and white peaches to passersby. With a stroller used to carry goods instead of children and eyes squinting in the sun, a woman tastes a piece of the man's fruit. She looks to the side when she bites into the juicy fruit, not at his eyes. To look at his eyes would mean agreeing to make a purchase.

At the end of aisle A, Ernesto Robles unpacks cardboard boxes and plastic crates of baby bananas, Roma tomatoes and pickling cucumbers. From a rod that holds the aluminum and nylon tent in place Ernesto's son, Edgar, 15, hangs an old silver scale. Alicia, Ernesto's wife, is quiet in the background as she stacks pineapples on the display table.

It's a Wednesday at the Galt Flea Market, which means vendors like Kenneth Reed of Galt can pitch canopies and sell used goods — $1 Barbie dolls, 50 cent CDs, figurines, decades-old issues of "Post" and "Time." On a good day, Reed will make about $300. Other days, he hopes to make back his space rent, which Galt Flea Market Manager and Special Projects Administrator Armando Solis says is $15 for spaces that sell used goods, if the tenant is from Galt.

Jamie Chang, 41, usually works Tuesdays when only new items are sold. She is giving Wednesday a try. The walls of her booth are adorned with ponytails and up-dos in all colors, lengths and styles. She sells hairpieces that act as extensions in the form of clip-on barrettes. A shopper and her daughter stop to admire the hair. "It's a good price," they agree, when Chang tells them the long black piece is $18 and can be worn two ways — flipped out or under for more volume. The daughter lays a piece of long orange locks over her shoulder and gazes in the small mirror to get a glimpse of what it would be like if her own hair were so long and full.

Jamie Chang of Tracy helps a customer with a hair attachment on Wednesday at the Galt Flea Market. Chang sells the false hair pieces to earn extra spending money. (Jennifer M. Howell/News-Sentinel)

The Galt Flea Market, open Tuesdays and Wednesdays for 19 years, is the only city-run flea market in California. Proceeds from the flea market go back to the city's division of parks and recreation. It has over 886 spaces for 400 vendors who make their livings and extra spending money by selling used and new goods and produce to weekday bargain hunters.

Tuesday is new goods day, and Wednesday offers used goods — like garage sale items.

"Tuesdays we have more of a Macy's crowd— Suburbans, moms, etc," Solis said. "Wednesdays is the Walmart and Target crowd, the bargain hunters."

With straw hats tight on their heads, sunglasses fastened, fanny packs with different compartments for large and small bills and wire carts in tow, many early risers are out to get the steals. They stare straight at their next prey, not talking to anyone they might bump into or any vendor selling something they don't want.

To combat these pro flea marketers are the pro sellers like Ernesto Robles.

Ernesto Robles is an entrepreneur. His company is Robles Produce. He sets his own schedule and he vacations yearly in Puerto Vallarta and Guadalara. His offices are his cold-storage truck and flea markets from Modesto to Napa.

But work is work. When he's not driving to Los Angeles twice a week to pick up fruits and vegetables he sells to customers in Northern California, he plays the part of stocker, cashier and delivery man at fleas. He sets up at 5 a.m., careful to follow market rules that include him staying within his 4-space area, using approved pegs at the end of the table's legs and he watches the garbage collection because at the end of the day, he can only dump two boxes in the dumpster.

Robles Produce includes jicama, pickling cucumbers and roma tomoates set out for Wednesday's customers at the Galt Flea Market. (Jennifer M. Howell/News-Sentinel)

At the age of 15, Ernesto Robles, now 33, moved from Mexico to California to sell produce at flea markets with his uncle. He enjoys the freedom and the time he gets to spend with his family, including the summer months while his son is on break from his school in Mexico.

Friendly and cheerfully, Robles cuts peaches and a pineapple into chunks on paper plates for his customers to sample. As the sun starts to rise directly above he removes his layers of clothing and moves the display tables made of metal stands and planks of wood further under the white canopy.

For a week, it costs him $10,000 to stay in business. When he sells his produce — for about a third less than what the grocery store charges — he'll make $13,000, thus turning a $3,000 profit for the week.

For Chang and Reeds, flea markets aren't as large of a business, but they're also not making a living by selling garage sale treasures and fake hair.

In cluttered aisles, vendors sit on truck tailgates and folding chairs as they watch for the next person to glance over their product. Golden metallic bedding, shirts with chain necklaces built in, polka dot luggage, vintage bowling balls, washers and dryers and plants. Some say there is something for everyone at the flea market. Others say there is stuff nobody wants. But at the flea market, Chang proves there is a market for nearly everything — even fake hair for people who already have hair.

With her own dark hair pulled up with a large sun visor, Chang insists customers try on the pieces.

Kenneth Reed gives change to a customer on Wednesday. Reed sells used wares at the Galt Flea Market. (Jennifer M. Howell/News-Sentinel)

"You need to try it," she tells one woman as she turns her around and starts putting the customers hair in a ponytail. "I'm not going to ruin your hair."

Tahying, the shy customer who only offers her first name, is nervous and taken aback by the outgoing Chang. But when she looks in the mirror, her scared expression turns into a satisfied smile.

"Oh my goodness! Twenty years younger!" Chang yells.

Tahying buys two pieces before moving toward the booth with the newly released DVDs.

With grown children and a husband, who works full-time, Chang sells hair pieces one or two days a week for spending cash. Until about 8 years ago, she sold silver jewelry at a mall kiosk, but business wasn't good.

"So a friend said, 'Jamie, you should check out fake hair,'" she said.

When she first started selling hairpieces and extensions, she would make $600 to $800 in a single Tuesday at the Galt Flea Market. But with the hot weather and expensive gas prices keeping people home, Chang and other vendors say flea market business has been slow. Now, on a good day, she will make about $300 to $500 in a day.

At the end of this Wednesday, she has made even less than that. As she packs her white mini van with clear bins of clip-on hair, she decides she'll stay away from Galt on used goods day.

Still, it's only 2 in the afternoon when she starts loading. She knows these hours are better than any she would have doing a day job and still gets her out of the house.

"I don't want to be the home mommy," said Chang, a mother of three. "I don't want a full-time job. There is no freedom."

Like Chang, who worked full-time before discovering flea markets, Reed never thought he'd spend his retirement selling used goods at a flea market— well, he sort of did. He wanted to spend his retirement from the Department of Motor Vehicles selling antiques. He started buying pallets of so-called antiques at auctions. When he realized his pallet had only one or two antiques and the rest was "used goods," selling at the Galt flea seemed a good answer.

Be A Smart Flea Market Shopper

Ernesto Robles of Robles Produce, finishes setting up for Wednesday's Galt Flea Market by placing pineapples out. Robles makes two trips weekly to Los Angeles to pick up his merchandise. He sells at different flea markets during the week. (Jennifer M. Howell/News-Sentinel)

Be ready to haggle. Some vendors set prices high so that if someone haggles, they will get the amount they were hoping for. Others will refuse to lower their price. Just ask; it's not rude.
The more you buy, the more you save ... sort of. Some vendors will give you a two-for-one or a buy-one-get-one-free deal. Don't do it just because. More than likely, you'll pay more money for three used pairs of shoes than you would for one new pair.
Try to have exact cash. Say you really want that old typewriter with a $20 price tag, but you only want to pay $17. So you tell the vendor you only have $17. Just think of how stupid you will feel when you pull out a $20 bill or that $17 from a wad of other bills crumpled in your jeans pocket.
Think convenience. You are too cheap to buy a metal cart that real bargain hunters use. But how about using the baby stroller your niece just grew out of? It's easy and you don't have to make a bunch of trips to the car. If you really need help with a big purchase, the Galt Flea Market has staff that can help you carry goods to your car.
Macy's or Target? Keep in mind that Tuesdays at the Galt Flea Market only allow new items to be sold: rugs, pottery, housewares, clothing, luggage, etc. On Wednesdays, aisles C, D, G and H are clear for "used goods" and nonprofit organizations.
— News-Sentinel Staff

Finding and buying the treasure to sell is all the fun for Reed. He tries to buy low and sell low; that's why he won't mark down his prices unless someone buys a lot or buys from him often.

With a wife and five grandchildren, Reed is a busy man. He doesn't support his family on what he makes at the flea market. The money he makes is used to buy more flea market items.

"It's mostly for fun. It puts a few more bucks in your wallet," he said. "It would be tough to do this full-time."

On this Wednesday, when the weather people are threatening viewers with 90-degree temperatures, the flea market crowd is thin. At a little after 2 p.m., the gentle and grandfatherly Reed packs up the 50 cent table so he can get home in time for his personal happy hour: his afternoon nap. He talks with the vendors around him. It wasn't the best of days for the garage sale items.

"This was not a fat chicken day," he tells his neighbor. They joke that they didn't make enough money to buy a nice, fat chicken for dinner.

Reed did make rent. But he didn't make the $300 that makes a good day. And while he doesn't want to say how much he did make this week, he says it was half of what he made the week before.

At the front of the flea market, a young couple, Ben Sem and Tao Le, shop for pots and pans to use in the new house they purchased together. They might buy fruit, maybe something from Robles' produce booth.

Now in a tank top and leather sandals, Ernesto Robles takes bites of freshly cut pineapple and mango. Even with the heat, and even though it's a Wednesday, he has sold $1,500 worth of carved coconut, peaches, bananas, pineapples and tomatoes.

His wife, who previously seemed quiet, is now motivated in the last minutes of the day.

"Good price," she yells to the crowd. "Special price."

Contact reporter Lauren Nelson at laurenn@lodinews.com.