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August 25, 2005

Antiquing

This weekend, Jeri and I went to a few antique shops here in town, partly to provide inspiration and to get items for her new artwork, and well, ok that was really the only reason. It's been decades since I had really spent time in an antique shop, which made it decades since my brother and I were required to walk behind my dad, hands in his back pockets - this was a sort of disciplinary tactic designed by my dad in an attempt to keep my brother and I from touching anything in the store. I've never met anyone else who endured the same, much less could imagine this sort of tactic but such is life. (The tactic was more barbaric and cruel when you took into consideration my dad's propensity for great and horrid flatulence.) During this time, my brother and I would generally wave a peace flag, and endure this together, as brothers. It never lasted too long, though my dad was of that athletic sort, he would soon tire of carting around 150lbs of sweaty child behind him (yes, I was quite the fat one.)

Antique stores always have that familiar smell, though never the same as that A & A Hardware my dad would take us to, perhaps it was just the Boston Baked Beans that had me enamored with that store (again, I was fat), but I'll save that for another time.

So that smell, and oy christ, the heat. It's as though the items would perish if the propietors lowered the temperature below 85. As always, I spent most of the time wiping my brow on aged doilies, and coats with mock fur necks. Looking at rows and rows of empty Coke bottles made me thirsty, and though I had polished off a Sicilian Omellette just minutes before, the rusted Hostess tins made my stomach growl (I said I was fat ok?). I had a pretty good time, though I'm not sure I would consider Def Leppard's "Pyromania" a true antique, nor the Petra albums. One of the stores had quite the selection of religious artwork that I found most intriguing, but alas, far beyond reach of my wallet.

I didn't buy anything, Jeri came away with a single die and a cigar box, and then it was off for raspados con nieve (for fuckssakes, I said I was fat!).

Contrived by Joshua at August 25, 2005 12:23 AM

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