Today I crapped my pants in broad daylight on a public street.
There I was, walking to the LHS, just minding my own business, when I encountered a guy opening up the back of his mini-van. For some reason he'd brought his kit stash with him, and it was large enough that he could've opened up a hobby shop of his own right then and there. Somebody helped him by picking up a stack of kits and carrying it into the store.
Wiping visible amounts of drool onto my sleeve I made a tactful inquiry: Selling your stash? Nope, just donating it.
I paused.
"Donating" as in...donate-donate? Just giving it to the store for free? I'd envisaged making a cash offer here or there one or two kits but....
Yep. Donating-donating.
At this point I think I made some sort of excited noise like Red Green's nephew Harold would. FREE kits. GOOD ones. My memory's fuzzy but at this point I think I pointed nervously at a 1/48 Albatross box.
Oh, would you like that one? Sure, here you go. Take whatever you like.
I immediately set to the frantic task of grabbing anything my free-stuff addled brain judged even remotely appealing, and a stack of kits piled up as I rescued them from the horrible fate of somebody actually paying for them. I'm a student on a tight budget so this *really* meant something.
On the trip home I greedily went through my fourteen new treasures, tempering my mood with an understanding that some (or all) of these boxes may simply contain half-built castaways, best suited for the spares box. No such luck: quite the opposite in fact. Everything was complete, and a few of them were overly-complete, stuffed lovingly with various aftermarket goodies. Free stuff. Awesome stuff. OhhhhHHHhh yeah.
[Here's the new stash:]
I think I need to go lie down now. In a pile of models....