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For Women Only
Necessities
I was at an antique store the other day browsing.
As I walked in I saw a line of beautiful mahogany curio cabinets,
chest of drawers and a roll top desk that would have taken anyone’s
breath away. As I continued my stroll, I saw an 18th Century four
poster canopy bed, hand carved and meticulously taken care of shining
under a chandelier.
“Looking for a bed mister?” the old
spunky sales women asked.
“Nope,” I said.“Just looking around.”
“You know that bed has quite a history behind
it,” she replied.
“Oh really?” I said, “Fill me in.”
She was delighted that she had peaked my interest.
“Rumor has it Roosevelt himself slept on it!”
“No kidding? How do you know that?”
I asked.
“His initials are carved into the head board,”
was the quick reply. Sure enough, plain as day you could easily
pick out the T.R. hidden amongst the scrolled pattern once she pointed
it out. “Also take a look at this. You see the slight cracks
in the wooden support slats that held the mattress?”
“Yeah, I sure do,” I said.
“Well, that about cinches it don’t you
think?”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Hell, sonny everyone knows he was a rough
rider!”
I fought hard from breaking out into laughter,
but lost the battle. “No, no that’s okay maybe if you
just let me look around.”
“The bed goes for $25,000,” she whipped
back, “but I’m willin’ to deal.”
“No ma’am that’s okay, just let
me...excuse me what’s all that stuff under the MUST GO sign?”
“That’s junk nobody wants, can’t
give that stuff away,” she sniffed.
“Mind if I take a look?”
“Go ahead, it’s all 75% off.”
As I stumbled through the broken rockers and silver
plated candleholders, I saw something that caught my attention.
“Whatcha want for the lamp?”
“It’s broke, don’t work. Fifty
bucks and I’ll wrap it up myself.”
“Seems like a lot for a broken lamp.”
“Okay, okay $35, but you wrap it yourself.”
The lamp was pretty, probably a knock off, would
need rewiring but what the heck, the leaded glass “Dragon fly”
pattern was pretty. “Okay I’ll take it.”
As it was being wrung up, I noticed a curious
but rusted old stamp underneath the base of the lamp: “Tiffany
Studios.” The lamp was later appraised for $80,000.
I tell this story for a reason. Most assuredly
Teddy Roosevelt didn’t sleep in that bed and a broken down
lamp in a junk pile can shine again and be worth a fortune. Men
are no different. To some degree, we are all second-hand men. We
have pasts and futures and stories to tell. None of us comes to
the antique store new. The question for the woman is, “Which
of our stories are false and which ones are true?”
by Fred Cuellar the Diamond Guy®
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