Hoarder Clean Up for Love. How I Made R…

Posted by on October 9, 2020

What are your most treasured items? Watch what happens when a hoarder falls in love but doesn’t have enough room for his girlfriend to move in, illustrating the proverb that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Evan is a massive collector of comic books, action heroes, and most things that he can find at

What are your most treasured items? Watch what happens when a hoarder falls in love but doesn’t have enough room for his girlfriend to move in, illustrating the proverb that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Evan is a massive collector of comic books, action heroes, and most things that he can find at a garage sale, but it’s not until he meets Betsy and starts a relationship, that his hoarding begins to get in the way of his life. At first, he’s able to keep his messy apartment and extreme collections a secret, but when Betsy wants to move out of her parents’ house and into his, Evan must question what he values more: Betsy or his hoard of stuff. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure–what will Evan choose? Thank you for watching! Tell us what you think in the comments below.

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Hey guys. My name’s Evan, I’m 26, and I’m a secret hoarder. It’s a strange habit, but before I tell you more–take a second to like and subscribe for more hidden wisdom stories. I have this tendency to get my foot stuck in my mouth. One of the best examples would be the time I accidentally insulted my future girlfriend, when I was trying to hit on her. Me and my childhood friend, Dougie, were hanging around this arcade, and I noticed this girl that was like way out of my league, and Dougie talked me into saying hi. I didn’t want to look like some dork slap in front of my pal, so I tried to act all James Bond, but I made a fool of myself. At first it wasn’t such a trainwreck. Her name was Betsy, and she was a Marine. When she said that she scared some guys off, and asked if I was intimidated by a woman soldier, I said, “Hey, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” Well, she stopped smiling and accused me of calling her trash. “No, no,” I said, but she was already sore about it, and I thought that I made the worst impression ever, but would you believe that she gave me her number and it was actually real? I almost fell over when she agreed to go out with me. We really hit off despite being kind of an odd couple. But then things got awkward when she asked to cook for me. She thought an intimate dinner at my place would be nice. But I had this secret that I guess I should talk about now. I’m a hoarder, so my place wasn’t really comfortable for guests. I thought I could fake her out and make the place feel normal. I started with the kitchen, which was filled with vinyl records and old comic books. I moved some into my car, into corners, and into cabinets. But no matter how much I tried to Tetris the place around, I couldn’t seem to find enough space. And I flippin’ lost it. I was imagining worst case scenarios. Betsy would be disgusted by me and leave me, and just fast as I found a girlfriend. I’d be back to Lonesome Town again, and for a second I thought about getting rid of some of my stuff. Just take it out to the dumpster and be done with it, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Maybe it looks like junk to others, but these boxes were filled with impossible bargains and old sentiments–a cache of memories you can’t put a price tag on, let alone drag to the dumpster. I was smacking my head, trying to jog an idea loose. But just as I was at my wit’s end. Betsy called me with bad news. Her unit had been called to move, and she had to report to duty that very night. It was a rushed but romantic goodbye, and Betsy told me that I’d be in her heart. When she hung up. I almost collapsed from the emotional rollercoaster ride. I had been saved, and I think that was the first time I admitted to myself that maybe I had a problem with hoarding. It all started with this feeling of elation I got when I stumbled onto this amazing find. At a garage sale back when I was still in high school. I bought a pack of baseball cards for a quarter, and inside was this Babe Ruth rookie card. I didn’t even know who this chocolate bar baseball player was, but Dougie told me that it was like finding gold, and it was a feeling of excitement that I’ll never forget. From then on, I scoured garage sales, assuming that what everybody was discarding had some forgotten value that I just needed to get back in touch with. I guess that’s what got me started as a collector. It wasn’t just baseball cards, it was records. And comics and video games. I collected toys and action figures of all kinds. And I even got into vintage movie posters. By the time I was graduating. I could tell you all sorts of facts about these collectibles, and I started my own blog, reviewing everything from G.I. Joe to Teddy Ruxpin. I wrote more and more reviews, and my writing was getting picked up by some pretty big name magazines and websites. It wasn’t a bad way to earn a buck, but now that…

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