Antiquing
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“I’m primarily interested in vintage bar glass, specifically Belgian brewery glass. But I’m happy to look around.” I use this line every time; nobody ever has any, so it guarantees time to browse. In actuality, I never know what I’m looking for until I find it. The divination is usually precise enough to find the store, but beyond that, I don’t know much, just that the object of power is no larger than my fist, no smaller than a walnut.
So I pretend interest, looking on every little shelf and in every display case. I’ve gone through the whole store and am on my second time around when I find it – a small elephant, cast in bronze, that’s throwing off so much power I can’t belive I missed it the first time.
I carefully maintain my nonchalance, making a show of turning the statue over, checking the price, even though I’d buy it for a grand, and my client would gladly reimburse me every penny.
“Any glassware catch your eye?”
“No, but I’ll get this. For my aunt.”
“Ahh, a wonderful piece.”
I suppress a smile; he doesn’t know how right he is.
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