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For Sale - Helicopter Pilot's Helmet - $125.00
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 3704
For Sale: 1 Helicopter Pilot’s Helmet.
I've tried to sell it before, with limited (no) success. I put it down to a failure in copy writing and the fact that it was probably priced "Too Good To be True". So I've raised the price and re-listed it on Craigslist and Kijiji in the Sports Section. I'm pretty sure it will sell now....
Flea Market Vendor
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1792
He stops me as I walk past his stall.
"You have a practiced eye" he says. "A man of discriminating taste....
I like him. I stop and give his table a look over - nothing really, he's by far and away the most interesting attraction, older, handsome in a decrepit, faded academic sort of way, wan smile, missing tooth, slight English accent with the charm you imagine English people to possess but so very few of them do.
"A connoisseur..." he continues, then lifts an item off of his table and passes it to me "Take a look at this snow globe.".
Saturday Night at 7-11
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2091
It's a Saturday night, the week is done (for a day), I've survived and I'm celebrating at home with a glass of rum.
I'm famished.
And restless.
And I think of taking myself to a bar, but there are none handy, and I've got to be up early to go to the flea market. So I compromise and decide upon 7/11.
Now it's not the same, not by a long shot, and while it will do nothing for my restlessness it might (somewhat) curb my hunger...
This is what it's come to. Saturday night at 7-11.
The Stockbroker
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1885
She's tall, my age, brunette, quite good looking. He's short, very nondescript, a bit stout.
I don't know if they're a couple or it's a business meeting. We get all sorts of odd, mismatched couples in the restaurant so it wouldn't surprise me.
She want's a glass of Amarone. We don't have Amarone by the glass but I can open a bottle for her if she'd like, "it'd probably come to" (and here some mental math, Amarone's around $85.00 a bottle, so per glass would be around...) "$20 - $25 per glass" I tell her.
"That's too much. I'll have the Ripassa."
He's not drinking.
I bring her a few glasses. She's definitely the alpha female, always talking, he's quiet, meek almost, listening. And I overhear:
"He shouldna fuckin made that trade. What does he fucking know?" and the meek man mildly contesting "But he's in oil and gas...." and more such from her mouth, turning quickly to a brisk politeness as she orders her next drink...
It would make Tony the Gansta proud.
She's a stockbroker.
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